Alternate Title Part 2
by Lady-Pleasure
Summary: A reluctant love story between Peter and Micky. Part 2- Learning to live with a secret and how it changes them. Warnings: Sex, drugs, language, etc. Disclaimer: Fictional...obviously. I don't own the Monkees...what a bummer. AN-This is not a new story. I'm just reorganizing it.
1. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 1

A/N So I don't have Part 2 completely done but I do have several chapters ready. I think I will only be updating this once a week though so that I can stay ahead while writing the new chapters.

Anyway... hope you enjoy.

* * *

PART 2:

So they had gone there.  
They had faced their fears.  
They had faced each other.  
And it wasn't so bad.  
Yes, they had some things to work out.  
Yes, they didn't have a clear picture of where this was headed.  
And just because they'd faced their fears didn't mean those fears were gone.  
It didn't mean it wasn't going to be a bumpy road.  
But none of that mattered.  
What did matter was that the rift between them was finally closing.  
They weren't enemies anymore.  
They were going to take this thing on together.  
They were going to make it work.…

* * *

The next morning, Peter was jolted awake by a high pitched squeal.  
_What the fuck was that?  
_Then he heard a few riffs coming from Mike's guitar and realized it had been feedback from the amp.  
_So they were starting practice early._

He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  
Then he looked over at Micky.

_Had that really happened last night?  
_He smiled. Yes it had.  
As he watched Micky sleep he thought about how it had felt to hold him. How they had stood there with their arms wrapped around each other.

Sinking into each other's warmth.  
Into each other's love.  
Letting their bodies get used to the feeling of holding another man.  
Surrendering.

When they had finally released each other, Micky had sighed. Not a sigh of sorrow but of relief. He'd looked up at Peter. He'd looked exhausted.  
And of course he _was_ exhausted. He'd put himself through hell the last few weeks.

Despite his exhaustion, though, his eyes were clear and open.  
They were no longer clouded with anger or fear.  
They were no longer concealing anything.  
They looked at Peter with trust.

Such trust…  
Such trust that Peter felt the sharp pangs of anxiety in his gut.  
What if he let Micky down?  
What if he said the wrong thing or did the wrong thing?  
He would lose him.

He could_ not_ lose him.  
He had to do _everything_ right.

…The only problem was he had no idea how to go about that. He didn't know what the right or wrong thing was in a situation like this.

He'd never been here before.  
It was like the blind leading the blind.

But Micky _trusted_ him….had ask for his help.  
So that's what Peter intended to do. He'd figure it out. He would do whatever it took.  
He could _not _fuck up.

He stood up and knelt by Micky's bed. He brushed his hand through a few of Micky's loose curls.  
Micky opened his eyes.  
He looked startled for a second and jerked away.  
But Peter watched as the memory of last night returned and his body relaxed.  
He looked up at Peter.  
Neither of them spoke.  
Conflicting emotions seemed to flicker across Micky's face.

Finally Peter said "So, uh…about last night. Is everything okay? …you know, with _us?_"

Micky nodded. It was hesitant though. "Yeah Pete…..I guess." He said and closed his eyes again.

_He guessed? _Peter waited a few moments hoping Micky would re-open them and elaborate on his response.  
When he didn't Peter felt disheartened.  
He finally stood up to leave.

Micky must have sensed his movements. He opened his eyes. "Pete?"

Peter turned back and looked down at him.

Micky sat up. He let out a nervous breath and looked around before staring up at Peter with intensity.  
Then he suddenly rose up to his knees and wrapped his arms around Peter's neck, pulling him down.

It was a very short but very passionate kiss.

Micky released him and sunk back down to his bed, averting his eyes.  
Peter was left feeling like jello.  
He slowly straightened. Micky wouldn't look at him.  
Peter swallowed and turned to leave again.

When he got to the door he looked back.  
"Hey Mick?"

Micky nervously looked up."Yeah?"

Peter grinned. "You really need a shower."

Micky's eyes grew wide and he flushed. Then a curl formed at the corner of his mouth. "Tell me about it."

Peter nodded and laughed. "Yeah, seems like it's been a while."

.

Practice went as well as could be expected….which wasn't great. Davy was a little rusty on drums. His frustration was obvious.  
Obvious to Peter anyway. Mike didn't seem to notice. Mike didn't seem to notice anything. He was quiet…in his own head.  
Peter, it seemed, was the only one on top of his game. So he took lead.

He took on Mike's role. Keeping everything going and calling time when things turned to shit. He had them run through their set list twice before Davy's frustration turned its ugly head on him.

"Peter, I can't do this shit anymore right now, man! I gotta take a break or I'm goin' to put one of these fuckin' sticks right through this tom head!"

Peter looked to Mike expectantly but got nothing.

"Fine." He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Take five?"

"Five?!"

"Well what do you want Davy?"

"How about half an hour…at least."

"Alright….but you better be ready to hit the ground running when we start up again."

Davy just rolled his eyes and stood up.

Peter watched as he went into the kitchen and began rummaging through the icebox.  
He turned back to face Mike "What's going on with you?"

Mike gave him a vague look before pulling the guitar strap over his head and setting his guitar down. "I don't know if this is gonna to work."

"What? What are you talking about? Of course it's going to work."

Mike looked doubtful. He sat down on the drum riser.

Peter put his bass down and sat down beside him.

"So what happened last night?" Mike asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you went in to talk to Mick after I got on his case but you never came back out. Did you straighten things out for me?

"For you?"

"Well…yeah."

"Not really. I just told him you were being an asshole because you cared."

"Oh."

"_Hey Peter…_" Davy called from the kitchen. "I'm going to eat your burger from last night since you didn't eat it. That okay?"

"Uh…sure I guess."

"So did you guys talk?" Mike asked as Peter's attention returned to him.

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"Yeah..not anything that has to do with the band …_or you_….just stuff between us."

Mike nodded and then looked up. "Speak of the devil." He said gesturing toward the hall.  
Micky had come out of the bedroom.

"Oh… hey." Micky said. "I thought maybe you were done practicing since you stopped playing.

"Davy just needed to take a little break." Peter said.

Davy came out of the kitchen. "Fuck yeah, I needed a break. Dammit Micky, I don't see why I gotta do your fuckin' job for you like this!"

"Davy, stop being a little bitch." Mike said.

Davy looked surprised. "What? Me?...No, not me, him." He said pointing at Micky.

"Well, it's not Micky's job anymore, is it? …But _you're _still part of this band so why don't you act like it?"

Davy glared at Mike, then at Micky.

Micky stood indecisively. He looked from Davy to Mike and then rested his eyes on Peter.  
Finally he said, "I was just….I was just going to take a shower." He turned to leave.

"Hey Micky." Mike said.

"What?" Micky turned back around.

"Look man, I'm sorry I came down on you like I did, okay."

"Micky shook his head. "It's fine."

"No, it's not. I didn't have a right to act like that."

"Yeah…you did." Micky said quietly. "Actually… you had an obligation."

"An obli-….an _obligation_?"

Micky nodded "To all of us. To the band. You're the responsible one. You had to call me out." He pursed his lips together "But see, that's why I can't play. If I would bail on you like this _now_, _especially_ now, I don't think you should trust me. I really don't even see why you would want me around."

"We want you around man."

Micky laughed cynically. "I don't know why. I haven't even wanted me around, lately."

Mike grew pensive. "Micky….did you and Lin break up?" He asked suddenly.

Micky's eyes darted to Peter's.

Peter looked confused at Mike's change in subject.

"Why?" Micky asked slowly.

"You did, didn't you?...Of course you did. That's what's been going on. I mean, the last time you were so erratic was when you and Sabrina broke up. Am I right?"

Micky took a second to understand Mike's conclusion.  
No, he wasn't right but if needed a reason…that was as good a reason as any. Actually it made perfect sense. It made more sense than the truth.  
He nodded slightly. "Yeah Mike….. we broke up."

"God, Micky why didn't you just tell us?"

Micky didn't say anything.

Peter stepped in. "It was complicated."

Mike gave Peter a measured look before turning back to Micky. "Yeah, I'm sure it _was_ complicated...otherwise you probably would have said something, right?"

Micky didn't answer.

Mike continued. "But relationships are always complicated. I mean they involve girls. Sometimes I think a girl's primary nature _is_ complexity. Guys on the other hand, we're pretty much easy going and straight forward…"

Micky and Peter looked at each other. Both thinking about how 'easy going' and 'straight forward' the last few weeks had been.

"Anyway, you should have just told us….but look, I'm sorry man. That's a stone drag."

"You know Micky," Davy's bitterness was suddenly gone. "I don't see what you ever saw in her anyway. She was such a bitch to you….I didn't like her ...actually, I didn't like her at all."

"There are plenty of fish." Mike said.

"Fish?" Davy asked.

"Yeah, fish."

"Why are you talkin' about fish?"

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you've never heard that saying… You know 'plenty of fish in the sea' ..as in options, for dating."

"Dating?"

"Man, it's even referenced in one of our songs."

"Mike, I don't think Micky needs to be dating any fish right now. That's fuckin' weird."

Mike rolled his eyes. "I give up."

"You know who he might want to date though….is Autumn, Denise's' friend. She's really cute, Mick. She has long red curly hair. Some cute little freckles on her nose. I'd date her, you know, if I wasn't dating Denise or Meghan….or Olivia."

Micky took a deep breath. "Thanks Davy…I just, uh. Look I'm not going to date anyone right now, okay. I just can't…until I figure some things out."

"Figure things out, huh? So, let me get this straight. You can't date, and you can't play the drums…because you need to figure things out? Well, you better get your shit figured out pretty quick. You're putting your life on hold here."

"Thanks for your concern .…but leave me alone." There was a slight edge to his voice that made Davy flinch.

"Yeah sure, whatever you want." Davy said timidly.

Micky hung his head. He hadn't meant to sound so gruff. "Uh..sorry Davy." He looked back up. "Thanks anyway."

Davy shrugged.

Micky stood there feeling a little awkward. He glanced at Peter for reassurance.  
Peter was smiling at him.

And it_ was_ reassuring….it was. But with the secret they now had between them, it was a bunch of other things as well.  
Understanding, supportive, affectionate.…maybe even a little seductive?  
_Seductive… _Micky's eyes lingered on Peter's smiling lips a little longer than they should have.  
His nerves suddenly felt like they were on fire.

Then Mike cleared his throat and Micky remembered where he was.  
He jerked his eyes away as blood rose to his cheeks and he became flustered.  
"Right, ok well… I'm…I'm going to go shower.." He said backing up a few feet. "you know, like I was planning to do...…." He took another step back. "… cause you know showers are good. They keep you clean… from sweat and dirt… and you can clean your fingernails and between your toes…" He turned while taking another step and ran right into the wall. "What?! _A wall?_ Where did this come from?!" He demanded from no one. He shook his head. "Yeah, I really, _really_, really need a shower." He said as he hurried towards the bathroom.

Mike and Davy both turned to Peter with questions on their faces.

"What?" Peter said.

"What was that about?" Mike asked.

Peter shrugged, trying to figure it out himself.

Davy walked in from the kitchen and sat on the other side of Peter. "I know what that was about."

"What?" Peter asked.

"It's _your_ fault they broke up isn't it? Somethin' happened between you and Lin when you guys were doing your swing bit, didn't it. That's why Micky's so mad and that's why he acts so weird."

Peter had came to the same conclusion Micky had about Lin and Micky's breakup being the perfect excuse for all the drama the guys had witnessed….but he didn't want to expand upon it. "I don't know Davy. Can we just get back to practice?"

"No…now wait a minute..wait just a minute." Mike said. "Davy's right. You were the complication. You _caused_ this, didn't you?"

Peter rubbed his forehead. _Yeah he had caused this…but not in the way they thought he had_. "Yeah."

"Fuck Pete, what did you do?"

"What did I do…?" Peter said almost to himself. _Whatever, let them think what they want_. "I don't know man, like I said it was….. _complicated_."

"Yeah, I got _that_ part."

Peter was growing irritable. "Look, I can't give you details…okay? Some things just happened. That's all there is to it." He looked at Mike. "But look, me and Mick are working things out. We're talking… and _stuff._ Everything's fine."

"Fine? Peter….everything's not _fine_. If everything was fine, Davy wouldn't be working his pretty little ass off trying to learn the drum parts."

"He already fucking knows them!"

"Yeah I know them." Davy chimed. "Still sucks, though."

"Shut up Davy." Mike said. "I'm making a point."

"Right, I get it Mike." Peter said ignoring Davy. "But…_believe_ me; everything is much better than it was."

Mike nodded. "Alright, I guess I'll have to take your word on that." He let out a long exhale. "Alright guys, back to practice." He said taking charge again.

And back to practice they went.

.

Micky was in the bathroom getting ready to take his shower. He had closed the door but he could still hear the faint voices of his friends. They were talking about him. He'd turned the water off so he could hear.

Peter had been admitting fault for his and Lin's break up. But it was funny…looking back; it wasn't Peter's fault at all. It was a dysfunction between him and Lin. A dysfunction that had always been there. Peter had just been the subject of it. Micky, of course _had _blamed him. He had blamed him for everything. He'd thought Peter was his enemy.

But that was before. Now he knew the truth.  
Now he knew that Peter was the exact opposite. Peter was his light.  
He, himself was the enemy….the tide.

He was lost in thought when he realized that the conversation about him was over and they had resumed their practice.  
He turned the water back on and stepped into the shower.

_Water… what a gift from the gods_.  
As the water hit his head he felt like he was getting a deep massage. A massage to his brain.

How long had it been since he'd showered? It was difficult to tell. The days had started to all run together. At least five days, he was pretty sure.

_Fucking disgusting Micky_

He leaned against the shower wall and relaxed as the grime was washed away.  
He let out a long sigh.  
He was still very confused. Water wasn't going to help with that.

He loved Peter.  
Yes of course he loved Peter.  
But now he _loved _Peter?  
Love? _In _love?...No, not _in _love. He wasn't _in _love.  
But something….something close.

He'd felt so safe… and warm in Peter's arms last night.  
He'd felt exactly as he had in his dream when the light rescued him.  
It had felt _so good_ to _give in_. To_ stop fighting_ himself.  
He hadn't realized how _hard_ he'd been fighting.  
But as the hot water hit his muscles he could feel the tension in them.

He sighed loudly.  
Yeah, it had felt _so_ good.

_Yeah Micky…maybe it felt good…but is it worth it? Is it worth being labeled a fag? A queer? A sissy?_

The fucking tide. He had to ignore it.

_But Micky, it's disgusting. It's _so_ dirty._

It doesn't have to be.

_You know what fags do, don't you?...They fuck each other's assholes and they eat each other's dicks and assholes. Is that what you're planning to do with Peter?_

Shut the fuck up! I don't know where this is headed but I trust Peter….and I love Peter! Whatever happens…..well….I guess it just happens.

_Whatever happens, huh?_

All I know is that I feel something and I can't help it!  
"And I'm tired…." He said aloud "I'm so tired of fighting this!" He cried into the wall.

He hadn't even been aware that he was getting emotional.  
But now, with his outburst, he sunk down into the tub and let the water continue to hit him.

His thoughts swirled around him like the tide had done in his dream.  
He felt the fear in his stomach.  
"No!" He cried out. "No! Fuck you! I know what you are! And I'm not listening!"

His eyes were closed and he lifted his face up to the water.  
In his mind he saw the light again.  
But this time the light was Peter in their bedroom last night.

Peter with his mouth on his...  
Breathing life into him…  
Holding him… forever.

The swirling thoughts suddenly ceased and the tension in his muscles released.  
He fell backward in the tub.

As he lay there a new voice came to him.  
_It's ok to love, Micky_

What was this voice?

_It's ok to love Peter._

Who was this?  
He suddenly remembered a couple nights ago on the beach when he had sung to the rock. It was the reassuring voice from that night.  
Was it Delores?  
No….It wasn't Delores…hopefully...  
She was a nut bag. Sweet, but a nut bag nonetheless.  
And this voice…this voice was _much_ to soothing to be hers.  
'_Peter loves you" _It had said.  
'_Peter loves you'_ Ty had said.

The voice was Ty.  
Ty…his angel. Always looking out for him.

Ty?

_It's okay Micky. _

I don't know if it is.

"_It's okay Micky. It's okay to love Peter."_

But what about _you?_ I love _you_.

_I know you do. I know._

Then how can I love Peter?

_Love is funny, you know. You never know where it will strike._

But, I've never had these feelings for a man before.

_Yes I know….but how are they any different?_

Well….it's a man….

_It's a human…it's a soul, a spirit. Micky…it's innocent._

He opened his eyes. He loved this voice. Ty's voice. But she was wrong.  
Maybe his love for Peter was innocent. It always had been but these feeling were far from.

They weren't innocent.

They were carnal…..

As he lay in the tub he half expected the tide to return and humiliate him for acknowledging his feelings.  
But, surprisingly it didn't.  
Did that mean he was free to continue this line of thinking?  
It seemed like it.  
But did he dare? He hadn't let himself go there before.  
Well, maybe it was time then.

There was a slight flutter in his stomach.

So he felt carnal towards Peter, then?  
Yes he did.

_How carnal?_

The flutter in his stomach took on life.

_What do you want from Peter?  
__What do you want him to do to you?_

He didn't have an answer… but suddenly the butterflies in his stomach had multiplied ten-fold.  
He let his mind wonder and accepted the images that came to him….

Peter touching him  
Peter running his hands over his body  
It was Peter's breath against his neck  
His mouth on his  
_tasting him  
__devouring him  
_It was Peter's lips running up and down his body…  
_and then down…and down…  
__and down…  
_It was the heat pressed against him  
Peter _taking him  
__DOMINATING him…_

_...and it was Micky begging for more._

The butterflies were now moving throughout his body making him tremble.

_God… is that what I want?_ He asked himself.  
He involuntarily whimpered.

_Oh fuck_…

He looked down and saw that his cock had begun to grow  
He watched as it continued to grow.

Yes that was apparently what he wanted…or at least what his penis wanted.

The sensation of being so aroused suddenly felt foreign to him.  
Yes he'd been turned on yesterday with the fire…but he had quickly tried to extinguish it.  
He hadn't let it grow.  
But now he was letting it grow, letting it fill him.  
Take over.  
He felt so raw.  
He knew if he touched himself he'd spend his wad right there.

He looked down again.  
_He wanted to touch it.  
_He _desperately _wanted to touch it.

It had been weeks now, he suddenly realized.  
Weeks… He'd hardly noticed the burning...the alcohol had dumbed his mind….and libido apparently.  
The last time he'd gotten off was with Ty. With Ty in her room on that lazy fucking Sunday...right before everything had changed.

Weeks …  
When he used to get it almost every day.  
He'd had no appreciation for _the release.  
_It'd just been part of his everyday life.  
He hadn't felt the build up.  
He hadn't felt the raw power…the raw life inside of him.  
Now he felt it.  
He felt it all.  
The tension was almost too much.  
It would be so easy to reach down and pull a couple times.  
He could almost feel it already. Almost see the cum squirt onto his belly.

But he remained frozen.  
He wasn't going to jack off.  
He couldn't. Not now. Not to Peter.  
Kissing him was one thing but jerking it to him was another…especially after the little fantasy sequence he'd had…..

_But god_….his balls ached.  
_It would be so easy_

Instead he made himself sit up and then stand up and turn the nozzle to cold.  
He soaped himself up and washed his hair in freezing water.  
By the time he was done his erection was suppressed.  
He shaved quickly and hurried out of the shower.  
He wrapped himself in three towels and applied ointment to the cut on his head.

There was still music coming from the living room.  
He opened the door a crack and peeked out.  
He didn't want them to see him.  
But he didn't have to worry. They were engrossed in practice.

He slipped out of the bathroom and hurried across to the bedroom.  
He threw his towels off and climbed under the blankets of his bed.  
He lay there naked and shivering….and wanting.


	2. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 2

They had finally finished practice

Davy was getting better…grudgingly.  
But it was going to work.  
Peter was sure of it.  
It couldn't_ not_ work.

Peter hurriedly put his bass away and wrapped up the cords. He dismissed himself and headed for the bedroom.  
He was anxious to see Micky.  
After last night and the confusing encounter this morning they probably needed to talk.  
But when he reached the bedroom he found that Micky wasn't there.

_Well of course he's not here. Did you really expect him to stay cooped up in the bedroom for five hours?_

But he hadn't seen him leave...

Well, He was probably down at the beach or something.

Peter changed into his swim trunks. He could use some sun himself.  
But when he got to the beach there was no sign of Micky. He walked about a mile in both directions before concluding that maybe the sun was over-rated and Micky wasn't around.

As he made his trek back to the pad a thought struck him.  
_Micky had gone out_…just like he'd been doing the last couple weeks.  
He'd probably come home drunk around 1 or 2am. He was running again. Trying to escape.

Peter's stomach fell.

But what about last night? …..It seemed like things were better.

_What? You think just because you guys seemed to have a real moment and you kissed that means everything is suddenly rainbows and leprechauns?  
__You think that suddenly all of Micky's issues have dissolved?_

No of course not…I guess I just _hoped_.

.

When he got back inside he sat down on the couch. He felt out of sorts. He almost felt like crying. He didn't dare though as Davy was sitting in the recliner only a few feet away.

He wished he had some pot. Why had he gone and smoked his whole stash yesterday?  
What a waste.  
Maybe he could get Ty to get him some from Lin. He looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was a little after 5:30. Ty was working at 6.  
_Shit._ He didn't have enough time.

He glanced over at Davy. "Davy, you got any pot?"

"Uh…no…" Davy said, not looking at him.  
He was engrossed in another western. This one had John Wayne.

Peter had seen it before.

Davy had also seen it before…many times.

"Man, why do you like these so much?" Peter asked.

"Like what?" Davy asked still looking at the television.

"Westerns."

"'Cause I'm English." Davy said matter-of-factly.

Peter pondered that for a few moments, trying to make it make sense. "What the hell does that have to do with westerns?"

"Well, we don't have cowboys where I'm from."

"Oh."

Davy turned his attention from the TV. "So, you wanna go to a party tonight?"

"What party?"

"Denise's."

"I don't know man. I'm not really in the mood."

"Man, you never are anymore."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter asked, knowing full well what it meant.

"You never want to do anything. You always have some lame excuse."

Peter sighed "Yeah, I guess you're right man. I've been kind of closed off."

"_Kind of?"_

"Sorry"

"Whatever, it's cool. But you should go."

"I just don't feel like partying."

"I might be able to help with that."

"How so?"

"Meghan gave me a few cubes of acid. I was going to take them all but I'll share if you want."

"Davy, you've never done acid."

"I have so, lots of times."

"When?"

"Well…" He looked deep in thought. "Well I did that one time with you guys when we were all in New Orleans."

Peter laughed. "That doesn't count man. You spit it out."

"I still tripped though."

"No you didn't."

"Yeah but I think I saw weird colors and shit."

"You _think_ you saw _colors_?"

"Yeah I'm pretty sure I was trippin'."

"Davy you would know for sure if you were tripping. You weren't."

"Whatever. I'm gonna trip tonight though."

"That's cool. I wouldn't take too much though since it's your first time."

"Ah, whatever, I can handle it…. So you gonna go or what?"

Peter sighed. _Why not? Why should he stay cooped up in the house all evening? Micky obviously wasn't interested in resolving things. Why should Peter be?  
And, besides, it would be good to hang out with the guys...  
__and alter his mind a little._ "Yeah, alright."

Davy grinned. "We're gonna have fun."

* * *

Micky was not drunk. No where close…Although the thought _had_ crossed his mind.  
But nope, he was going to behave himself.

After his shower he had been lying in bed…thinking.  
His thoughts had led him in circles.  
Circles he didn't understand. Circles that were driving him crazy.

Trying to tie logic and emotion together was difficult enough. Trying to think logically when you are an emotional person and then trying to tie that logic to the plethora of emotions that are constantly changing and doing battle inside your head as you bang it against the wall …well, that was damn near impossible.  
So round and round he went.

_I love Peter_

_No I don't, I love Ty_

_I'm such a fag_

_Shut the fuck up_

_I hate myself_

_I love Peter_

_I miss Lin_

_Why? She's a bitch_

_I don't miss Lin_

_I want Peter to fuck me_

_I'm not gay_

_I wish Peter was a girl_

_I want a drink_

_I wonder what Peter's nipples taste like_

_I'm disgusting_

_I wish I wasn't gay _

_I'm not gay_

_I want to suck Peter's cock_

...And so on.

Finally he realized that most of his thoughts were becoming a little obscure and a little unnerving.  
He also realized that his erection was back and that he had been absently rubbing it. He jerked his hand away as if he'd touched fire…which in a way he had.  
That fire Peter gave him yesterday. It seemed to have collectively collected in his dick.

He sat up. Well it didn't help that he was naked. _Oh the things he could do to his own naked body.  
__What the fuck?_…_more weird thoughts._

He needed to do something. He needed to get out. He needed to be productive.  
He got up and got dressed. He picked out some clean, unwrinkled clothes to go with newly washed and shaved self. He patted some Black Label on his chest and put on his boots.

Ok, now where to go?

_Maybe into town._

For what?

_For a drink?_

No..we're not drinking today.

_Well then where to?_

How about Ty's?

_She doesn't want to see you._

Yeah I know….but I need her.

_I thought you needed Peter…_

Yeah I do….. but maybe I need her too. Besides, I have to apologize.

.

About 15 minutes later he found himself on the bus. He'd snuck out of the bedroom and quietly walked to the door while the guys were busy talking something over. For some reason he'd felt like a kid, sneaking out in the middle of the night, worried his parents would catch him. But he needed to get out. He needed to get away. He knew if they saw him leaving…especially if Peter saw him leaving, there would questions and conversation. He didn't know if he could handle another 'talk' like earlier. It was difficult for him to hide things.

Which made him wonder _what business did he have going to see Ty?  
_She was the last person in the world he wanted to know about this shiny new development between him and Pete.

_Yes but she's also the one you go to for everything. She's your emotional backbone, remember. You need to talk to her._

Well, that was if she was even home…if she would even talk to him.  
And if she_ was_ home and if she _did_ talk to him…well, he still wasn't going to spill his guts to her. He was going to have to be real careful about this. There were too many relationships on the line.

Finally the bus pulled up. It had only been about fifteen minutes or so but it felt like longer. Micky was nervous. He stepped off and immediately noticed Lin's motorcycle.  
It was the damnedest thing. He'd thought about the possibility of Ty not being home but he hadn't even considered the fact that Lin would probably be there.  
No way was he going to face Lin right now.  
No way in hell.

So what to do?  
Was Ty even here?

He walked down the street a ways and saw her car parallel parked half a block down.  
He'd hang out then.  
He sat down on a bench nearby that had a decent view of the apartment entrance.  
Neither Lin nor Ty would be able to leave without him knowing.

_Wow, what creep you are Micky._

Yep, I'm creepin' it up.

He sat and waited….and waited….and waited. He watched the traffic go by. He twiddled his thumbs. He played _I Spy_ with himself. Anything to keep his thoughts neutral. He found himself continuously checking the watch he'd forgotten to wear. It had to be around 3…maybe 3:30? He'd left the pad around 2:30 or so.  
He waited some more.

Finally he spotted a super shiny person walking towards Lin's bike. He immediately recognized Lin…in her silver go-go dress.

_She was going to work?  
_It was a little early wasn't it? For a weekend?...Unless she was meeting a 'client' beforehand.

As he watched her walk he was struck by her beauty. Maybe he _did_ miss her.  
It was just too bad she was so incapable of love. He knew she was like that for a reason. It still hurt though.

He watched as she hiked her already short skirt up and straddled her bike.  
It was a wonder she never got pulled over for public indecency.  
But then maybe she had…and maybe she'd gotten out of it by offering a little more indecency.  
Micky didn't know. It wasn't his problem anymore.

As she sped away he stood up and started making his way towards the apartment.  
When he reached the door he hesitated. Why was he here? Ty didn't want to see him. She hated him.

_Maybe not._

How could she not, though..after what he'd said?

_Well, it's a good thing you're here to apologize then._

Of course…that's what he was here for…. to apologize.

He knocked on the door.  
After a few moment he heard a voice inside. "Freakin'hell Lin, did you seriously forget your keys again…."  
Then the door opened and Ty was standing in front of him.

She was in a robe. The same robe she had put on a few Sundays ago when she had answered the bedroom door to take Peter's phone call. The same robe she had immediately discarded as soon as the door had closed and she'd climbed back on top of Micky as she talked to Peter on the line…..

"Micky?"

He was brought back from his memory. He suddenly realized he'd lost his tongue. He just stood there.  
Then Ty was hugging him. Her arms were around his neck. Her face was buried in his shoulder.

"Oh god, Micky, I'm so glad to see you."

W_hat? She was glad to see him? _This was not what he expected.  
He finally found his tongue. "Ty…" He said as he returned her embrace. "Ty, I needed to see you. I needed to tell you-"

"-I'm so sorry Micky."

"Wh...wait what?"

"Come inside." She said ushering him in.

She led him over to the couch and sat down.

Micky remained standing. "Ty..I feel really bad."

Ty was shaking her head not understanding. She pulled him down to the seat beside her and hugged him again. Then she kissed him softly on the cheek.  
"I _do_ love you Micky."

"_What?..no Ty, I came here to apologize."_

"_Apologize?"_

"_Yeah."_

Ty looked confused for a moment. Then she understood. "For calling my mom a whore?"

Micky nodded "Yeah."

"Micky my mom _is_ a whore. I hate my mother."

"But Ty, I thought…-"

"-I know I got upset .It's touchy for me, you know."

"Yeah..I know. That's why I wanted to apologize. Ty, I'm sorry."

"I know you are. I know." She wrapped her hands in his. "And maybe you should be a little sorry-"

"-I am."

"But I'm also sorry."

Micky was taken aback. "What could you possibly have to be sorry about?" He asked.

Ty leaned into him. "You needed me. I shut you down. I left. I let my emotions get the best of me instead of realizing that you needed to talk."

Micky shook his head. "This is not how I envisioned my apology going."

Ty laughed. "It's not how I envisioned mine going either."

.

And so they talked. Small things for a while. Then Ty rolled a couple of joints and the conversation turned more serious.

"So what's going on with you Mick?"

Micky shook his head. "That's something I have been trying to figure out."

"Having any luck?"

"A little."

Ty remained quiet waiting for him to continue.

"I don't know. It's just the whole thing with Pete, I guess. It threw me for a loop. It's making me question a lot of things."

"What things?"

Micky felt uncomfortable but he continued. "Well, I mean you know, why would I kiss him like that? What does that say about me?"

"So you're not blaming Peter anymore?"

Micky' head dropped and he looked at the floor. "No…I'm not. I know it wasn't him. It was me. And I know he wasn't accusing me. I think I just needed a reason to hate him."

"But Micky, you don't hate him."

"No, of course not. I just wanted to."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess if I hated him I wouldn't have to feel so weird about things."

"Micky, what happened was just this little thing. It doesn't mean anything. It was just in the moment."

Micky bit the inside of his cheek to keep his facial expression under control_. _It wasn't _just_ in the _moment..._ Because a moment was _one_ small piece of time.  
No, this had become _a few_ pieces of time. There was no _'just'_ about it. They were starting a trend. Plus there were the feelings.  
"Yeah but Ty, that doesn't matter. Guys just don't do that….unless….." He trailed off

"So what Micky? Are you saying you _wanted_ to kiss Peter?"

Micky didn't answer.

Ty continued. "Are you saying you think you're gay?

"No! Ty, I'm not gay!"

"Okay." Ty held her hands up in defense. "I wasn't _saying_ you were…..I'm just trying to figure out what _you are_ saying."

"I'm not saying anything."

Ty shook her head, confused.

"Look, it's just that…guys don't do that." He stated again while he nervously rubbed his forehead. "I'm not gay okay? ….I'm not…. but .. I mean, what if I _was?_"

"I don't know…what?"

"What?"

"What if you_ were_ gay?"

"I'm not."

"I know." She sounded exasperated. "But what if you were? I mean that's what you're getting at isn't it? You're afraid that you are?"

"I guess." _Shit. He hadn't intended for the conversation to go this way._

"Right….Well, let's pretend that you are. Would you really let it destroy you?"

"I don't know." Micky said honestly.

Well it shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"_Why not? _Because Micky, love is love. And feeling are feelings. People are just people with feelings and love. Sexuality doesn't change that. Who you love is up to you."

"So you don't think it matters?"

"No, not really."

"Then why am I so hung up on this?"

"Micky, are you in love with Peter?" Ty's voice took on a different tone.

Micky's eyes grew wide. "No, I'm in love with you."

"But you have some sort of feelings for Peter?"

_God, why did he have to be so transparent?_ "No Ty. I don't have feelings!" He lied.

"Are you sure? Because it's starting to seem like you do."

Micky dropped his head. "I don't okay….it's just that…. there's something there and I don't know what it is. It scares me, Ty. I don't want to be gay."

Ty was quiet for a moment. "You know what? I think you're over thinking this. You're worrying too much. You're not gay. I mean you're still attracted to women, right?"

Micky nodded.

"Well there you go. And as far as there being something there…I think its okay to feel things…even if it goes against your grain… Especially if it goes against your grain. It opens you up. "

"So,what, you think I should allow myself to feel things? …_not that I do."_ He added quickly.

"Yes, Micky. You _have_ to allow yourself to feel things. If you don't, you'll suffocate."

Micky thought it over. _She was right._ It was the same conclusion he had come to subconsciously in his dream. But with Ty's confirmation and the fact that she seemed not only to accept, but also to encourage his feelings, Micky felt a burden suddenly lift and fall off of his back.

It was okay.

It was easy.

He loved who he loved…. He felt how he felt. That was that. Fuck the tide.

He leaned forward and hugged her.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me."

.

They stayed snuggled up on the couch for a while. They smoked a couple more joints and Ty gave him a sack to go home with.  
They talked sparingly. It felt good just being in each other's company.  
Finally Ty got up and began getting around for work.  
Micky raided the refrigerator and found some pot pie Mable had made. He cut a slice for himself and one for Ty. They ate quickly and then Ty drove him back to the pad.

Before he got out of her car she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. "Take care of yourself."  
He grinned. "I will."  
He watched as she drove off. _What a girl._


	3. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 3

The acid had starting taking affect a several hours ago.

They had left the pad around 6 and gone over to Chip's to shoot the shit before heading to Denise's. They'd listened to some records, smoked some pot and played with the puppies that Chip and Gina's Blue Healer, Molly, had had a couple weeks ago.

Finally Davy had gone over to the corner and gestured to Peter. He'd fished in his pocket and discreetly brought out a wad of tinfoil. He unwrapped it and handed a sugar cube to Peter.

Mike took notice. "Hey shotgun, what you got there?"

"Nothin' just a little sugar. I got a sweet tooth."

"Uh huh." Mike said doubtfully. "You know I got a sweet tooth too. Why don't you share?"

"I am sharin'. I'm sharin' with Peter."

"Well why don't you share with me too?"

"Why?"

"_Why? _Come on Davy, you've got three more cubes there. Let me have one."

"But I wanted all of them."

"You want _them all?"_

"Yeah."

"That's a terrible idea."

"Why?"

"Well, you'll get diabetes. And beside you've never taken sugar like that before."

"Why does everybody think that?"

"Because it's true." Peter said.

"Because it's true." Mike agreed."

"What's true?" Chip asked not following the conversation."

"That Davy's never done acid before." Peter said.

"Oh, yeah, that _is_ true." Chip said.

"You know what? Screw you guys. Screw all you guys. You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Uh huh, whatever. Give me one." Mike said.

"Hey, me too." Chip held out his hand.

"What? But then that would only leave me with one."

"One is plenty. And besides, there's a code to follow here." Mike elbowed Peter.

"Oh..oh yeah. There _is_ a code Davy. Don't you know the code?"

"No."

"Oh well, you should know it then." Peter turned to Mike. "What's the code, Mike?" He said under his breath.

"Oh you know the code. The code where you have to share with your friends."

"I've never heard of that code." Davy said.

"Well….you know 'all for one and one for all'?"

"What does that have to do with me sharing my acid with you?"

"One for all. It means you have one for all. One for each of us. So you have to share."

"Oh." Davy said.

"Come on. We'll all trip together."

Davy looked doubtful. "Well, I guess if it's in the code..."

"Yeah it's in the code."

"Okay…fine, since it's in the code." He said handing a cube to Mike and Chip.

.

So they dissolved their cubes and headed over to Denise's.

That was about six hours ago …although now, it seemed like it was in another lifetime.  
Peter could almost swear it was in another lifetime. But the watch on his wrist said otherwise. It was his link…his portal back to reality. It connected all the dimensions.

It should be worshipped.

He slid the watch off his wrist and laid it beside him in reverence. He looked around.

_Where the hell was he? _It seemed he was in a small enclosure. He looked up and saw a bunch of glowing blobs hanging above him. _What the hell were those? And where was everyone? How had he even gotten here?_

_._

When they'd first arrived, everyone had been in the backyard. They'd passed an old guitar around and played a few tunes. That was when the early affects of the acid began to kick in.

It was very chill. Very peaceful.  
It was nighttime but suddenly the sky was alive with color.  
Everything was.

The music coming from the old guitar took on life. An energy that Peter could actually see and taste.

_This was what 'the trip' was all about._

Then Davy had started mumbling to himself and laughing. He'd laid down face first in the grass and stayed that way for what seemed like hours. When they tried to get him to move he'd freaked out and told them to go away…that he was working on his breathing.

.

After that things got weird.

Peter wasn't sure exactly _what_ happened or when. But he saw flickers in his mind.

Mike and Chip square dancing… only it wasn't in a square. It was in some sort of pyramid.  
Davy crawling around on his belly like a worm, latching onto Peter's foot, forcing Peter to drag him along as he walked.  
Hanging out in the bathroom with Mike and Gina, laughing hysterically at toothpaste on the mirror.  
He saw Davy running through the house, naked with a scarf wrapped around his head…screaming at the top of his lungs.

Bright colors and flashes everywhere.

The air was thick with something that looked like translucent powder. It was shooting off in all directions. Then it merged and became a stream, flowing through the house, bouncing off the walls.

He chased it.  
He danced with it.  
He followed it into the kitchen where he found Mike attempting to cook some sort of slop consisting of Cheerios, vodka and butter on the stove.  
He'd laughed and then the stream had vanished.  
He'd looked at the people around him and seen them multiply before his very eyes becoming a sea.

He saw their faces take on animal forms. Spirit animals.  
Mike was a bear…which was funny because Peter always thought he would be a wolf….or maybe a coyote since he was from Texas.  
Davy was a turtle.

Music was constantly surrounding him. Some of it was real but some of it probably wasn't.  
Music from the ages. Music from the pores and pulses of the life around him. Music from the seasons.

Autumn….Autumn, Denise's friend. The one Davy said Micky would like. She had music. Music that he was drawn to.  
She'd laughed when Peter had apologized for his strange behavior. Her laugh carried a melody.  
So did her heart…...  
So did her slender frame…  
…and so did the natural curls of her hair.  
And the long lashes,  
The small pouty lips and high cheekbones….almost Cherokee.

She was filled with so much music.  
A tune that he felt was very familiar to him….although he couldn't place it.

.

Later he'd found himself alone in the living room. He'd sat down and looked at the end table. The grain in the wood drew pictures for him. He laughed and poked at them. Suddenly Mike was sitting on his lap.

"We have a problem."

"Huh?" Peter said not understanding the words. He knew that he knew the words. He just wasn't sure what they meant…or what they meant when combined into a sequence.

"Davy locked himself in the bedroom upstairs. He pulled the screen off the window and he keeps saying he's going to fly."

"He's gonna fly?"

"Yeah."

"Mike I don't think he should do that."

"I don't either. I don't think he can fly."

"We should probably stop him, huh?"

So they went upstairs. They knocked a few times on the bedroom door but Davy told them to go away.

"Please Davy, we just want to say hi to you."

"No, go away. I'm buildin' my anti-gravitational fields. I need to concentrate."

Eventually Denise got a screw driver and took the lock off the door.  
Davy was standing by the window, still naked but now the scarf was wrapped around his neck instead.  
Mike walked up behind him and picked him up.

"No! What are you _doin'?! _I'm tryin' to fly man. I wanna fly."

"Well, you can't fly in here." Mike said as he slung him over his shoulder.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because there are rules."

"Oh." Davy looked terribly disappointed…and terribly indisposed on Mike's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'll take you downstairs. You can fly down there."

"Okay." He immediately seemed to brighten.

When they got downstairs, Davy did indeed try to fly. And as Peter watched he was suddenly convinced that maybe human flight _was_ possible.  
Every time Davy jumped, he seemed to obtain more and more ground and stay in the air longer. In fact, he seemed to float.  
Well, maybe human flight was farfetched…but human floating? Peter was a firm believer.

.

After that he was pretty sure he had joined a pot circle in the backyard. The guitar was still being passed around. The people he saw were still in their animal spirit form and the moon had grown to the size of Jupiter.

.

That was the last bit he remembered.

And now here he was in an enclosed space with glowing blobs.

There was a faint light filtering in through a crack in the ground.  
As he touched it, he realized it was the bottom of a door.  
So he was in a room?  
A small room.

He sat up and traced the door frame with his hand. He found the handle and turned it.  
Suddenly there was an immense light and the blobs glowed even more. But they also took on shape. He reached out to touch them and realized that in spite of the sensation that they were made of liquid, in realty, they were, in fact, probably just dresses.  
He must be in a closet.

Suddenly a hand reached across him and closed the door.

"Huh?" Peter said not knowing if the hand was real or not.

"Shhh."

The hand pressed against his chest forcing him to lie back down. It moved towards his belly and then up under his shirt.

_Whose hand was this?_

He reached out and touched hair. Curly hair.

_Micky._

Then the hand was traveling back down and into his pants.

"_Mick?!"_

Micky didn't say anything. Instead he wrapped his fingers around Peter and began stroking him.

"Oh my _god,_ Mick." Peter breathed. "What are you _doing?"_

Micky still didn't say anything.

Then Peter was stripped of his pants and Micky was straddling him…just like a couple nights ago.  
Only this time Micky was naked. He slowly sunk down, impaling himself on Peter's cock.

Peter couldn't wrap his head around what was happening.  
He breathed out heavily as he felt Micky's inner warmth. He gripped Micky's thighs.

Then Micky was moving against him. Up and down and up and…  
_down._

_"_Oh_ fuck_….." Peter whined.

"Fuck me Pete."

"_But Mick…"_

"_Please!"_

Peter began thrusting.  
Micky began moaning.

Peter saw a flame ignite between their bodies.. He saw the flame grow into a fire.  
Out of the fire Micky's face emerged. "I want you _so bad_ Pete. _fuck me_… _OH, god_, _Fuck me_ _Harder!"_

And Peter did.

He fucked him and fucked him until they both came….

Then Peter lost consciousness.

It could have been days or hours but it was probably only seconds.  
When Peter came to, Micky was still on top of him. He looked up in the dim light and saw Micky's eyes.

They were closed.  
His long lashes lay gently over his high cheekbones.  
Peter's eyes traced down to those small pouty lips. They were opened slightly, sucking in air.

He reached out and touched Micky's shoulder. He ran his hand down Micky's body.

"_Jesus, Mick._ I can't believe that just happ-"  
Peter cut himself off when he touched a breast.

_Micky didn't have breasts_.

Peter looked again at the face above him.  
It had to be Micky. The lips. The cheekbones. The eyes…

But then the eyes opened.

_Those weren't Micky's eyes._

And then Peter noticed the freckles.  
And then Peter noticed that the curly hair was long…and possibly red. Although it was difficult to tell in this light… and besides colors kept changing.

He looked at the breast he was still touching. It was indeed a breast. A small one. But a breast nonetheless.

He traced his eyes further down to a patch of hair between slender thighs.  
There was no penis.

Peter was pretty sure Micky had a penis.

_This __wasn't Micky?_

Peter was stunned. "What?...Wait, I thought …"

The being who was not Micky sighed and fell forward on top of him.

Peter ran his hands through curls that apparently weren't Micky's.  
"Who _are you?_" He asked, trying not to let his disappointment show.

The being looked up at him, confused, and laughed.  
The laugh sounded like a melody.

…."Autumn?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god. I'm sorry….I just thought you were someone else…." He immediately realized how that sounded. "God, I'm sorry…I didn't mean it that way."

Autumn laughed. "Yeah, you kept calling me Mick or Meeka or something."

"I did?" Peter suddenly felt panicked. Autumn didn't know Micky but what if she put two and two together?

"Yeah, _Meeka_… I guess? Interesting name. Is she your girl?

"My girl?" Peter's heart was pounding. He needed to get himself under control or his trip would start to go south. "No, she's not my girl. I mean she _is_ a girl but..."

Autumn laughed again and rolled over next to him. "It's fine if you don't want to tell me about her.

Peter sighed in relief. "Thanks. It's just that I wouldn't even know how to tell you about 'her'."

"I understand."

Peter doubted that she did.

They lay there in the dim closet for a while.  
Peter watched as the arms of the dresses seemed to take on life and snake around each other. He watched as they seemed to caress each other and make love.

Make love like he and Micky just did_.  
_He struggled to let the memory go…. It wasn't real.

Finally he asked "Why are we in a closet?"

"Because this is where you brought us."

"I brought us here?"

"Yeah." Autumn looked amused.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I thought it was a little odd myself…but then again, everything has been a little odd with you so far."

Peter contemplated that for a few moments. "How did this even happen?"

"Wow, you really are fucked up aren't you?"

"I guess."

"You know you are lucky that I'm such an easy going girl. Most girls would be very put out to be called another girl's name and then not be remembered at all."

"I remember you...I just don't remember how we hooked up."

"You were singing to me. You said you knew the song of my spirit. Things just sort of happened after that."

Peter looked at her. _The song of her spirit...or was it the song of Micky's spirit?_

She smiled at him. Then she sat up and began dressing.

Peter leaned up on his elbow to watch her. She was so agile. So soft and lithe. "You know, you're really beautiful."

She blushed. "I don't know about that. Lots of people say I have a boyish figure."

Peter's mind processed as he looked her over. "Yeah." He finally said. "You do have a boyish figure. But why do you think that doesn't make you beautiful?"

She blushed again.

Peter grinned at her. There was something about her he liked. And it wasn't just because she reminded him of Mick….although that was probably most of it.  
He reached for his pants and put them on.

"Well," Peter said. "I'm sorry I brought you to a closet. I haven't been much of a date have I?"

"I don't know. You _did_ serenade me and call me beautiful and you were pretty good in the sack."

Peter laughed. "I guess you're pretty easy to please." He said as he stood up. The dresses seemed a little irritated at the intrusion. A couple of them jumped off their hangers.

Autumn picked them up and re-hung them. "Well, life is too short _not_ to be pleased easily."

_Yeah he definitely liked this girl_. She had insight. Insight like Ty.

_Ty._

He suddenly felt guilty.  
Not for sleeping with Autumn necessarily but for being attracted to her.

"Uh, Autumn, maybe we should go back out to the party."

.

They went back downstairs and found Mike on the couch making out with Gina.  
Chip didn't seem to mind or even notice though.  
He was busy walking an invisible straight line with a toaster under his arm.

There were a few partygoers passed out here and there on the floor or in chairs.

Davy was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Denise.

Autumn spotted a couple girlfriends. They were eyeing Peter carefully. She kissed him on the cheek and went over to talk to them.

Peter wandered outside and sat by a small bon fire that was burning in the yard. He was alone.  
As he gazed at the flames he saw Micky' face come forth again.  
He watched with fascination.

Every detail was there down to the laugh lines around his eyes and the stubble on his chin.

A sudden loneliness gripped Peter. He desperately wished Micky was here with him.  
It was overwhelming.

_Why had Micky left? Why did he have to be so selfish? Micky said he needed him but didn't he realize that Peter needed him too?_

Peter needed him now but all he had was a false memory of lovemaking and a fire with Micky's features.  
It was better than nothing.

.

He watched it for hours. Even as the fire died down and the hallucination began to fade…he watched…. and wondered where things were headed for them.

Finally the earliest light began to creep across the sky.

"Whatcha doin'?"

Peter looked up, startled.

Mike was sitting beside him. _How long had he been there?_

"Just thinking I guess."

"I've been looking for you. I didn't know you were out here."

"I've been out here for a while." Peter said still watching the embers from the fire.

"What's on your mind?"

"Mick." Peter looked up. "I wish he was here."

"Yeah."

"I just _really_ miss him." Peter said looking away.

"Look, we're gonna take off pretty soon. I'm sure he's home by now."

"Yeah."

"Hey, cheer up. We had fun didn't we?"

Peter smiled weakly and nodded.

"Of course we had fun. And you know what?"

"What?" Peter asked.

"I'm glad you came. We haven't hung out in a while."

"Yeah." Peter smiled again, only this time it was genuine.

"Alright, well, let's go round up Davy. I hope he finally has on some pants."

Peter laughed. "Yeah, I don't think he should be allowed to take acid anymore unless he agrees to some sort of pants policy."

.

They found Davy and although he didn't have on pants he had the next best thing.  
A sarong. They'd take what they could get.

They persuaded him to get in the car while they went back for Chip.  
He was a little more difficult.  
He'd grown attached to the toaster he'd had under his arm and didn't want to leave it.

"Come on man, you have your own toaster at home." Mike said.

It did no good. They tried to pry it out of his hands but he threw a fit.  
Denise reluctantly agreed to let him borrow it…but only if he brought it back later in the day.

They finally left around 6.

Things were a little hazy and, now with the sunlight, way too bright. It was a little disorienting. Peter was glad Mike was driving.

When they got to Chip and Gina's, Gina leaned over and gave Mike a kiss. Chip still didn't seem to notice.  
Then she got out of the car followed by Chip and the toaster.  
Mike licked his lips and waved good bye.

The rest of the drive was quiet. Everyone was in their own heads.

Last night's events kept playing through Peter's mind….especially the part where he'd had sex with Micky….or hadn't had sex with Micky. It was so confusing.  
Reality was one way. His memory was another.


	4. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 4

AN- I know I said I would only be posting once a week. But I may not be around this weekend so thought I should go ahead and post early. Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

When they finally got home, sleep was on everyone's minds.  
Mike and Davy immediately headed upstairs.  
Peter lingered in the living room a little while trying to get up the nerve to go into the bedroom. Facing Micky after his hallucination was going to be weird.

Finally he opened the door and quietly tiptoed in.  
But there was no reason to be quiet.  
Micky was already awake.  
Peter hesitantly sat down on the bed facing him.  
Micky was eyeing him.

"Hey." Peter said quietly.

The look Micky was giving him was questioning. Almost accusational. "Hey." he said coldly.

Peter was confused. _Was Micky upset?  
__No, why would he be?_ Peter's perception must be off.

"Getting in kind of late aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Where were you?" Micky sounded demanding.

Maybe Peter's perception _wasn't _off. Micky seemed _pissed_.  
"Is something wrong?"

Micky eyes burned into him. "No of course not." But his tone said otherwise.  
"So where were you?"

"Out." Peter answered slowly, cautiously.

"Hmm." Micky said "Well that's nice. I'm sure you had lots of fun." The words were thick with bitterness.

"What the fuck, man. What's up?"

"Nothing. Why?."

"_Why?_ I don't know. You seem upset or something."

"What would I have to be upset about?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Alright, fine!" Micky's voice suddenly rose. "_I'll tell you!_... He stood up.  
"_I'm_ sticking my neck out here with whatever this thing is with you and it's like you _don't even care!_" He paced. "You come home at.." He glanced at the clock on Peter's nightstand. "at 7:30 in the morning like it's nothing and all you can say is-"

"-_Are you kidding me?!"_ Peter interrupted. He went on the defense. "First of all, you think you are the only one sticking your neck out?_" _Peter stood as well.  
"And second, _I fucking care, man! _You're the one who took off last night! Just like you have every other night! You're kinda setting a double standard here!"

"I needed you to be here!"

"I needed you to be here too!"

"I _was_ here!"

"No you weren't!"

"Yes I was! I was _here! _I don't know where you were_ but I WAS HERE!" _Micky suddenly yelled.

"_You were?"_

"Yeah,_ I was here_! I was waiting all night._ All fucking night for you to get home so we could talk and so that I could show you these." _He went to the desk between their beds and rummaged through some papers. He picked them up and threw them at Peter.  
"I spent all night drawing those!"

Peter fumbled with them. "Mick, I…" He said as sat back down and scrambled to straightened the pages. "I thought you went out. I thought you were gone." He looked up. "I wouldn't have left otherwise."  
He suddenly felt awful. He wasn't supposed to let Micky down. And he had, big time. "Fuck! I'm sorry, man."

Micky was quiet for a few moments, seemingly trying to decide if Peter was being sincere.  
Then his shoulders slumped and he sat on the bed next to Peter. "Whatever." He sighed.  
"So _where_ were you?" His tone had softened.

"Davy's girl, Denise, had a party."

"_Oh_." Micky breathed out.

"Seriously Mick, I looked for you. _I really did._ I couldn't find you. And then Davy suggested the party and I thought _fuck_ _it, why not?_ I figured you were out drinking again or something."

"I wasn't."

"Apparently not."

"I went to see Ty."

"Ty?"

"Yeah. I needed to talk to her."

"Oh?"

"I didn't tell her anything." Micky said, addressing the apprehension on Peter's face.

Peter let out a relieved exhale. "Good."

Micky nodded, looking at Peter with an attentiveness that made Peter break eye contact. He looked down at the drawings in his hand. "So what are these?" He asked.

Micky took them out of his hand and laid them out side by side like a comic strip. "A dream." He said. "A dream I had about you."

"About me?"

Micky nodded. "This is you here." He said handing him back one of the pages.

It showed a figure that was either on fire or very bright, holding and comforting another figure, who Peter could only assume was Micky.  
As he looked at the drawing he was filled with emotion. He understood the significance.

"See, Pete, I've been running from myself." Micky said as pointed to another drawing; one of a whirlpool of water spinning around another figure that was also, probably, Micky. "I tried to hurt myself, you know? I tried to destroy myself but you saved me." He turned to look at Peter. "That's when I realized what you are to me."

"What am I?" Peter said in danger of his voice giving out.

"_Everything._" Micky said in a whisper. "You're my light, Pete."

That did it.  
Peter broke down. He covered his face with his hand and cried.

Micky was startled. He quickly put his arm around Peter. "Pete, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

Peter latched on to him and buried his face in his shoulder.  
Then he felt Micky's hand stroking his back.

"Shh….. It's okay man. I'm sorry… I.. _What's wrong?_"

Finally Peter pulled himself together and ducked his head away. "God…" He said covering his eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know what that that was about." He looked up.

Micky's eyes were wide with concern.

Peter suddenly laughed. "Man, I need some sleep. I'm so strung out."

"Strung out?"

"Yeah, I took acid. I think it's still messing with me." He handed the drawing back to Micky.

"Micky put it away and sat back down beside Peter. "Well, then you should sleep."

"But we need to talk."

"We can talk later." Micky said, still concerned.

Peter shook his head.

"Look I waited all night. What's a few hours more? Besides, you're no good to me. You're a strung out pile of shit." He cracked a smile.

Peter gave a short laugh and nodded as he wiped at his eyes.

Micky pulled the blanket up and then stopped. "Pete, why don't you have any sheets?"

"They had to be washed." Peter said laughing again… but his laugh sounded a little off.

"What?" Micky asked not understanding what was funny.

"I jerked off on them… they had to be washed."

"Oh." Micky said, knowing that he should be disgusted but not quite feeling the disgusted vibe. "Well, why don't you sleep in my bed then."

"In your bed?"

"Yeah."

"You're not gonna sleep in it?"

Micky shook his head. "I slept enough."

Peter allowed Micky to help him up and into the other bed.  
He laid back and Micky tucked him in, brushing his hair back.

Peter looked up at Micky. He seemed to glow.  
Maybe it was the light coming in through the window between their beds.  
Maybe it was still part of his trip.  
Or maybe it was just a radiance that Micky put forth.  
But he was reminded of the fire that Micky had emerged from when they'd had sex during his trip. Real or not.

"I slept with this girl last night…" Peter said.

Micky waiting for him to continue.

"She reminded me of you."

Micky looked at him with a controlled expression.  
After a moment he leaned forward and kissed Peter's forehead. "Get some sleep Pete." He said before getting up and leaving the room.

* * *

Micky sat down on the couch in the living room.  
He was alone.  
Last night he'd been waiting and waiting for Peter to get home. For anyone to get home. He'd felt so lonely.  
But now… Now he was glad to be alone.  
He needed to think.

That last bit Peter had said was echoing in his mind.  
'_She reminded me of you.'  
__Peter had sex with a girl that reminded him of him? _

How was he supposed to feel about that?  
What did Peter even _mean_ by that?  
Was he saying he wanted to have sex?

_No…he wasn't saying that_.

_He wasn't right? _

Even if he was…there was no way that would happen.  
He was ready to give this thing with Peter a shot but taking it to a physical level like that… well…

_well…actually it kind of turned him on._

_No it doesn't!_ The tide objected loudly.

He took a deep breath._ I have to let myself feel, remember? _

The tide backed off.

Micky took another deep breath. _Okay_… so, yes taking things to a physical level _did_ turn him on….. _BUT_, they _couldn't_ take it that far. He wasn't ready. He probably never would be…._would he?_

He felt a familiar warmth between his legs.

He groaned.

_God they really needed to talk._

* * *

Around 5:30 that evening Peter finally woke up.

Micky had been pretty lazy most of the day.  
He'd worked on his drawings some more and picked at Peter's banjo.  
He's found Peter's sheets in the hamper and made up his bed.  
Mostly, though, he'd thought about the conversation he needed to have with a few hours, he'd gone back into the bedroom and watched Peter sleep.

When Peter woke up, Micky was there.

"Can we talk? He asked adamantly before Peter even sat up.

Peter rubbed his eyes. "Uh…yeah okay."

"Ok" Micky took a deep breath and spewed everything that had been on his mind all afternoon. "Look I'm having a hard time with this, okay? I keep having these conflicting thoughts and I don't know what's right but I feel something but I haven't wanted to but then sometimes I do and sometimes I _really_ do, like right now, I really do, you know, I _want_ to feel this way but it's been all over the place but I have to stop shutting down because I just have some major hang ups that I need to get past and I'm going to really _really_ try 'cause you know, it's _okay_ to feel things I guess 'cause you love who you love and you feel what you feel so I can't lie to myself anymore because It will destroy me so I have to see where this goes and I _want _to see where this goes…  
_But_….I just _need_ to know that things won't get out of hand." He finally took a breath.

Peter sat a few moments, digesting. "Out of hand?" He finally asked.

Micky nodded. "We need to take this _real_ slow…. and I don't think we should have sex."

Peter's face turned red. "No… you're right. We shouldn't have sex."

"Okay." Micky suddenly felt better.

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Did you want to say anything?"

"You pretty much said it all."

"Okay."

Peter laughed. "So what now?"

"I guess we see where it goes." Micky said as he got up and sat next to Peter. He touched his shoulder. He suddenly felt very bold. Freedom from the tide was making him giddy.  
He grinned and leaned in brushing his lips against Peter's.  
He pulled away for a second and laughed.

Peter looked pleasantly confused.

Micky kissed him again and didn't stop.  
And didn't stop…..

.

It was the kiss that Peter had been wanting. The one where he buried his hands in Micky's hair and parted his lips with his tongue. The one where there was no guilt or fear. The one where they kissed until neither of them could breathe.

…and they would have kept going, breath or not if Mike hadn't knocked on the door.

.

They froze. Eyes wide. Lips engaged.

Peter tore away and looked at the door.  
It wasn't locked.

In two sift moves Micky did a somersault off the bed and was lying on the floor when Mike opened it.

"Hey guys." Mike said. He looked at Peter. "I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright."

"Ye…Yeah Mike, I'm fine. Thanks." Peter said quickly as he grabbed a pillow and placed it in his lap to hide the slight erection that was trying to make itself known.

"That's good. You get some sleep?"

Peter nodded impatiently.

"Yeah, sleep always has a way of setting your mind straight doesn't it?"

"Sure does."

"Of course, as tired as I was, it was still hard to sleep and then when I finally did, it was just kinda in and out I guess. And my dreams were _so_ bizarre man. It was like I was still trippin' or something. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Peter kept his answer short.

"Right, well I figure if you're up to it, maybe we have about an hour's worth of practice before it gets too late. We really need it man. That party might have been a setback."

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. I woke up Davy. I think he's getting around too… hopefully.

"Okay Mike."

"Okay… Well… good." Mike looked like he was about to leave but then he turned back. "Why are you in Micky's bed?" He asked.

Peter shot Micky a look. He'd forgotten he was in Micky's bed.

"Whatever." Mike said dismissing his question.  
With that he left.

Peter and Micky sat for a few seconds not saying anything. Then they looked at each other.

Micky shook his head. "Oh my god…."

Peter started to laugh. "Oh my god."

Micky let out a deep breath and began to laugh as well.

It started out as nervous laughter but soon grew into one of their laugh fests.

It felt so good. It had been so long.

.

Eventually they stopped laughing and Peter stood up. "Maybe we can pick this back up in an hour?"

Micky blushed.  
Peter grinned and went to practice.

.

He was pleasantly surprised to see that Davy finally had on some real pants.

"Oh yeah, well I told him that if he didn't put on pants I'd lock him out of the bedroom." Mike said when Peter commented on the fact.

"Yeah, can you believe that? Like it's_ his _bedroom?" Davy tried to gain sympathy.

"Davy, I'm really, _really_ glad you're wearing pants." Peter tried his best to sound sincere without laughing.

"Oh shut up Peter. I was feelin' my energy or something. The pants were blockin' it. They had to go."

They made more jabs back and forth about the night before and laughed over their bizarre behavior.

.

The thing about acid was that the aftermath gave you a sense of renewal. It cleansed your mind.  
They felt good. They felt connected. They played beautifully.

.

7:00 came around before they knew it. They could have kept going but Mike noticed that the sun was starting to set. "Alright guys, I'm calling it. I don't want Babbit knocking on our door."

And so they quit.

_._

Peter retired to the bedroom, saying he was still sleepy.

When he opened the door Micky was lying on his bed. He looked up and smiled shyly.  
Peter walked over and sat on his own bed facing him.

"So…" Micky said as he sat up

"So…" Peter mimicked.

"So what should we do?"

Peter knew what _he_ wanted to do but he decided to act innocent. "I don't know. Whatever you want."

Micky looked at him for a few moments. There was a gleam his eye.  
"Lock the door."

Peter swallowed. Without a word he stood and walked over to the door. He paused before turning the lock.  
_What were they about to do?  
_Then he decided he didn't care. He locked the door and turned around to face Micky.

Micky grinned but he now looked a little uneasy.  
Nevertheless, he stood up and made his way to Peter.

Peter suddenly felt very nervous.  
He felt like he was in junior high about to kiss a girl goodnight after a first date.  
But that was silly. They weren't on a date.

_Oh? That's what's silly about it?  
_The lack of logic in his line of thinking made him start laughing.

Micky stepped back not understanding.

"Sorry Mick, I didn't mean to laugh. It's just… confusing."

Micky nodded and smiled nervously.

Peter touched Micky's cheek. He needed to do something to calm their nerves. He leaned in but instead of kissing Micky, he looked him in the eyes and whispered. "You know, you look so pretty. Maybe I should get you some flowers. Or how about a nice fuzzy stuffed animal? "

Micky pulled his head away and stared at Peter wide eyed.

Peter tried to keep a straight face.

Micky's shocked expression slowly broke into a stupid grin as the absurdity struck him.  
He started laughing.  
He clutched at Peter's shirt and buried his face in his chest. "Yeah Pete, that'd be real nice." His voice cracked. "Maybe a necklace? You know my birthstone is aquamarine." He said as his laughter took hold.

"Wow, aren't we high maintenance?" Peter was still not cracking a smile. "I was just talking about flowers. But jewelry? I don't know, I think maybe things are getting too serious."

Micky looked up at him. "Oh, I didn't realize you were gonna have commitment issues." He said shaking with laughter.

Peter grinned and touched the side of Micky's face. "What? You think you're the only pretty girl in my life." He asked before pulling him close and kissing him.

"Fuck you Pete. You pig." Micky barely got out between kisses and laughs.

Finally Peter's façade broke and he began laughing hysterically into Micky's mouth. He had to pull away to catch his breath. Micky pulled him back causing him to lose his balance and slam into the door. He hooked his fingers in Micky's belt loops to steady himself. Micky laughed louder. So did Peter.

"_Shhhh! Mike and Davy!" _ Micky said clamping his hand over Peter's mouth.

As he dropped his hand, Peter grabbed his wrists, spun him around and pushed him hard against the door.  
He pinned his wrists above his head and kissed him.  
Just like his fantasy from a couple nights ago.

Micky suddenly stopped laughing. He pulled away from Peter's kiss and looked up at him.

Peter saw his lip tremble. He watched his eyes.  
Had he gone too far? It had just been a joke…..sort of.  
He let go of Micky's wrists. "Sorr-"

That was as far as he got.  
Micky's arms were suddenly wrapped around him and his mouth was on all over him. Kissing and biting.  
Peter didn't understand what was happening. But he quickly realized that things had just changed.

This wasn't a game anymore.  
It wasn't funny anymore.  
It was suddenly real.  
Very real.

Micky's hands were moving all over him. His mouth was on his neck and he bit hard enough to draw blood.

"_Shit Micky!_" The pain kicked Peter's brain into gear. His mind finally caught up and he began kissing Micky back with the same fervor.

Micky's hands went to Peter's waist and then up underneath his shirt.  
Peter pushed him against the door again and sucked hard on his lower lip.

Micky stopped kissing him and sunk down to the floor. He grabbed Peter's arm pulling him to his knees.  
Peter felt the surge. He pushed Micky onto his back and hovered over him.  
Micky tried to sit back up but Peter once again grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. .

He looked at the prone figure beneath him.  
_What a sight_. So flushed and ready with a wild look in his eyes.

Peter tightened his grip.  
Micky groaned

He'd forgotten that Micky was into domination. Or rather, into being dominated. Lucky he had had the practice with Lin…  
He attacked Micky's lips and went deep. Micky struggled against his grip.  
He latched himself to Peter's lip and bit hard causing Peter to hiss and release him.  
Micky immediately moved his hands to Peter's hips and pulled into him. Peter exhaled sharply as he felt a hardness dig into him.

_So that was what another cock felt like._

Peter dropped his head to Micky's neck as he pressed his own hardness against his. "Is this what you want?" He asked heavily.

"Uh huh" Micky groaned and arched into him.

That sent another jolt to Peter's groin. He moaned into Micky's neck and started a slow rhythm.

"Oh fuck." Micky breathed as he leaned his head back on the floor.

Peter ran his hand down Micky's side and settled above his hip. He could feel the edge of Micky's lower ribs through his shirt. He pushed the shirt up so he could feel his skin.

Micky groaned again and began moving his hips in rhythm with Peter's, starting slow but the pace soon escalated.

Peter raised his head to kissed Micky.

Micky touched the sides of Peter's face and ran his fingers through his hair….softly.  
But then it wasn't so softly. It turned into a grasp and Micky began pulling.  
At his hair. At his head. At him.  
Bringing him closer.

But how much closer could they get?

Peter pulled his head away and clutched for Micky's hands. He curled his fingers in them and pressed them to the floor at his side.

Their kisses became sporadic as the fire grew.  
Focus became concentrated on the sensations between their legs.

Micky cried out….loudly.  
Peter thought for a moment he'd somehow made him come…  
but then Micky was moving against him again…  
still crying, still pressing hard into him.

_Well it wouldn't be long now.  
_It wouldn't be long before this friction caught up with them.

That thought gave him pause.  
_They were supposed to be taking it slow.  
__This was not slow.  
__This was getting out of hand.  
_If they didn't stop this soon there would be no turning back.

_Was there any turning back as it was? _

Micky was biting him again.

"_Oh fuck…"_ The sensation was too much.

They had to stop.  
_Now_.

Peter willed himself, hard as it was, to pull away. He let go of Micky's hands and sat up on his knees.

Micky opened his eyes slowly.  
He looked at Peter and immediately understood what was going on.  
He sat up silently and moved so that he was sitting with his back to his bed.

They looked at each other. The only sound was their unsteady breathing.

Finally Micky sighed and rubbed at his forehead. He stood up and lay down in his bed. He pulled the sheets up to his chin and stared at the ceiling.  
Peter watched him, afraid to say anything.

Finally he asked "Are you okay, man?"

Micky answer after a few moments. "…I think so."

Peter remained quiet, wondering if _he_, himself, was okay.  
After having sex with Micky in his mind last night, he would have thought anything that happened between them _after_ that would seem like nothing.  
_But_…_ that_ hadn't been real. It _hadn't_ been Micky.  
_This though_… what just happened… this _was_ real.

He'd felt Micky's desire for him. He'd felt Micky's cock.

It had been hard, rubbing against him.  
_He_, Peter_,_ had been _responsible_ for that hardness.  
_He'd_ turned Micky on.  
_He'd _caused him to cry out and thrust against him… _with a need_.  
A need that Peter _wasn't_ ready to fulfill.

Speaking of needs… Peter stood up. He had his own need to fulfill now. He also needed to think about what had just happened. "Mick, I'll be back." He said and left before Micky could say anything.


	5. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 5

A/N Sorry! I know it's been a little while. The Easter/Spring Break bit kind of threw me off schedule. I'll post the next chapter early to make up for it.

* * *

Micky was still lying on his bed looking at the ceiling. The fire in his pants was burning him. His heart was racing. His felt feverish.  
_Oh fuck…what had just happened?  
_That was too far.  
Hadn't they just agreed not to go too far?  
God, he wished Peter would come back and fuck him.

"Oh." Micky moaned. _No he didn't. He didn't really wish that._

But _fuck! That had been hot.  
_He hadn't intended to attack Peter like that but Peter had pushed his buttons.  
_Had he done that on purpose?  
_Maybe… Or maybe it was subconscious.

Micky had seen Peter fuck. Peter was a lover if nothing else. He seemed to subconsciously pick up on things. He seemed to know exactly how to please whoever he was with.

Damn… What would it be like to be Peter's lover?

_Come on Micky, stop thinking like that._

He just needed to get off. That was all.  
He reached in his jeans.  
It felt good. Really good.  
_Too good._

He stopped jerking…

_Why did you stop?_

I don't know. I just think I should wait.

_Wait for what? Until you marry yourself?_

Micky laughed half heartedly. No, he wasn't old fashioned like that.

_So why did he want to wait?_

Yesterday he'd thought it was because he didn't want to get off to Peter.  
But obviously that wasn't true, considering what had just happened.

_Why then?_

Maybe because after all the emotional shit he'd put himself through the last few weeks… after all the fear and self hatred, he was starting to accept things. Starting to see this for what it was… a sexual awakening.  
And this feeling… this fire was something physical that he could hold on to… to remind him that it was real.  
If he jerked himself off it would be cheap and meaningless.

_So who's gonna get you off then? Peter?_

Micky bit his lip. _I don't know… _maybe. Would that be so bad?

_Yeah it might be._

Why?

_Well…it opens doors doesn't it?_

I guess.

_Maybe even a back door?_

Micky cringed. No. Despite his sporadic fantasies, that door needed to stay locked. Sex was out of the question.

_Better be careful then._

Careful…yeah.

But deep down he knew he wasn't really the careful type.

* * *

So Peter jerked it to Micky…again.

But this time he had more fuel. This time he had a clear memory of Micky's lips on his, Micky's tongue, his body beneath him. The hands that were all over the place. The sounds. The way he looked.  
This time he had felt Micky's cock. He'd felt it rubbing against his.  
Albeit there were two zippers attached to two pairs of jeans separating them.  
But how easy it would have been to unzip them?  
What would it feel like to rub flesh on flesh?  
He almost wished they hadn't stopped.  
Almost.

And what if they hadn't? How far would they have gone?  
Surely they wouldn't have…..

But then, just two days ago he would have never believed that he and Micky would be making out on their bedroom floor.  
Things were happening too fast.  
They shouldn't have been screwing around like that. This was too new and weird. Uncharted.  
It was so easy to get wrapped up in it. Hormones were all over the place.

They were men after all. Men were horny by nature. Men wanted to progress as far as possible, as fast as possible.  
This was no different…except that it was _new_…and _weird_… and _uncharted_.

They shouldn't be rushing things. They could really screw themselves up.  
They might do something they'd regret.  
Peter couldn't let that happen.  
Not even in the name of passion…. which was really just a fancy word for raging hormones.  
They needed to step back. Take it slow. That was what Micky wanted anyway, right?

Peter laughed to himself. Yeah that's what he _said_ but…. _Fuck_ the way he'd attacked him. The way he'd bit him? The way his hands had moved over Peter's body…  
Maybe Micky didn't know what he wanted.

Peter breathing began to hitch as he replayed everything in his mind.  
He strengthened his strokes.

_And the heat coming off of him.  
__The look in his eyes when Peter had pinned him to the floor.  
__The way his body had responded to Peter's touch.  
_He was just asking to be opened up.  
And Peter would open him up. Eventually. He was suddenly sure of it.

With that thought in mind he came violently. His body jerked and he couldn't help but let out a small cry.

When the wave passed he felt guilty.  
Not guilty for his desire but guilty for imagining that Micky wanted Peter to fuck him.  
Micky didn't want that.  
He'd _specifically_ specified '_no sex.'_

And, in reality Peter didn't want to fuck him.  
Well…maybe not in reality. But logically. Logically why would a guy ever fuck a guy? Could you really get the same intimacy that you did when you fucked a chick?  
It really didn't make any sense to him. How could a guy ever enjoy being fucked?  
He couldn't right?  
He'd heard it hurt like hell. So why do it?  
Unless there was something about it he wasn't aware of...

He cleaned himself up and looked in the mirror. He touched the spot on his neck that Micky had bit. It was turning a dark red. It was going to bruise, no doubt about it.  
He liked it though. He like the way it looked. He liked seeing the visual proof of Micky's passion for him.  
But it was also another reminder of how out of control things had gotten.  
He sighed.

_Alright. Okay_…turn it down a few notches. You have to do this right. There can be _no_ regrets. Otherwise you'll probably lose him. You _can't_ lose him.

He nodded at himself in the mirror before opening the door and heading back to the bedroom.

.

When he walked in, Micky was lying on his back in the same position he'd been in when Peter had left. He was staring at the ceiling deep in thought.

"Hey man." Peter said.

Micky looked over at him. "Hey." He sat up.

Peter sat down on his bed across from him. "So…." He sighed, feeling embarrassed.

"So.." Micky said.

"So, I thought you wanted to take things slow." Peter laughed a short, nervous laugh."

Micky didn't seem to think it was funny. "I _do." _He sounded defensive. "And I thought you did too."

Peter smile faltered. "I do…I mean that's best right?

Micky hesitated and then nodded.

"Well, then … -we need to be more careful."

"Careful …yeah"

"Yeah." Peter took a deep breath and lay back on his bed.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes.

"You know that's the most action I've gotten in almost a month." Micky blurted out.

Peter looked over sharply. "What?"

Micky looked embarrassed. "The last time was that day in Ty's bedroom."

Peter laughed. "Shit Micky!"

"Yeah… _shit_ is right."

Peter laughed again.  
Micky didn't.  
Peter stopped.

"Pete?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not gay."

"I'm not either."

"So what is this then?"

"Fuck if I know."

Micky didn't say anything.

Peter glanced over. Micky seemed distraught. Peter sat back up. "Micky… who cares what this is? We don't have to fit it into some sort of box. It doesn't have to have a label."

"It doesn't?"

Peter shook his head. "No. It doesn't. Just let it be. Don't worry too much about it… We'll figure things eventually."

"We will?"

"Yeah."

Micky nodded but he didn't look convinced.

Peter smiled, trying to be reassuring. "You hungry?" He suddenly asked.

"A little."

Peter stood up. "I'm starving. I'll make us some dinner." He said as he extended his hand to Micky. "Anything you're in the mood for?"

"I guess it depends on what we've got."

* * *

They didn't have much.  
But they did find a large bag of brown rice, a very small roast, some boxed wine and half an onion.

"Stir fry?" Peter asked.

Micky agreed.

Peter got to work.

.

Micky sat down at the table and propped his head up on his arm. He watched Peter put the roast in the oven and get the rice boiling. He found his eyes being continuously drawn to Peter's mouth and then down to darkening hickey on his neck.

The hickey _he'd_ given him.  
He hadn't given anyone a hickey since he was a freshmen. It seemed kind of amateur.  
He hadn't meant to give Peter one. It had just happened.

But as he watched Peter dice up the onions, he had an intense desire and urge to walk over to Peter, pull him down to the floor, _straddle him_, and suck the _hell_ out the opposite side of his neck.  
It would balance things out.  
…well, it would create symmetry on his neck anyways.

But of course he couldn't do that. That would lead to other things.  
And they were going to be _careful_.

Careful…yeah.

Micky smiled to himself.  
He didn't see them being _careful_ for very long.

.

Mike and Davy eventually made their way to the kitchen.

"Smells good." Mike said as he sat down at the table beside Micky.

"Yeah, better that slop you made last night." Davy said, sitting on his other side.

"You know, I still don't know why I thought vodka would enhance the flavor of Cheerios."

"Well vodka enhances the flavor of everything. I guess it just depends on how you want the flavor enhanced." Peter said as he pulled the roast out.

Mike rolled his eyes.

"Maybe he was tryin' to impress Gina with his culinary skills." Davy proposed.

Mike raised his eyebrow. "Oh? And who were you trying to impress by doing cartwheels, naked, in the foyer?"

And of course that led right back in to more banter about the night before.  
Mike and Peter ganged up on Davy. They explained to Micky, in great detail, all of Davy's pantless blunders.

"Oh so that's how it's gonna be?" Davy asked getting a strange gleam in his eye. "Well, if I'm gonna have to keep payin' for my harmless little oversight of proper party wear, I might as well live up to it."  
He stood up and pushed his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. Then he sat back down at the table.

Mike, Micky and Peter stared at him.

Finally Mike said "For the love of god, Davy! At least put your boxers back on!"

"Why should I?"

"Because I don't want you farting on our dinner chairs. You'll probably erode the wood."

Micky and Peter started laughing.

Davy and Mike didn't. They were in a stare down.  
It didn't last long though as Mike let the corner of his lip twitch, trying not to laugh.  
Then Davy was rolling on the floor and Mike had his head in his hands.

Eventually the laughter abated and Davy got off the floor. He put his boxers back on but not his pants, trying to salvage a little of whatever point he'd been trying to make.

.

Finally dinner was ready and the four of them were sitting in their designated spots.  
Just like they used to.  
It was good.  
Almost normal.  
Almost normal except for Davy's missing pants.  
Almost normal except that Micky was no longer in their band.  
Almost normal except that it wasn't normal.  
It wasn't normal at all.

As Micky and Peter sat across from each other, their eyes met… many times.  
Between, 'pass the salt' and small talk about how good Peter's dinner actually was for once, their eyes carried on a conversation of their own.  
They conveyed their fear and excitement  
Their acceptance  
Their desires  
Their reassurances…

Mike and Davy didn't seem to notice.

* * *

After dinner they all pitched in on the dishes. Then they sat down in the living room and passed a joint around, shooting the shit.  
Mike and Davy seemed very happy to have Micky around again.  
Micky seemed happy to be around.

The tension over his retirement was gone.  
They seemed to accept the fact that he'd made his decision. They didn't like it but they didn't bring it up either. Instead, focus was on rekindling the deep friendship that had grown rocky over the past month.

After a few hours Davy got up off the couch. "I think I'm goin' for a swim."

Mike looked at his watch. "Davy, it's almost midnight."

"So?"

"So the sea monsters are out."

Davy shook his head in mock annoyance before grabbing a towel from the bathroom and heading out.

"Well," Mike said after a few minutes. "You know I didn't sleep so well last night… or actually, I guess it was today. I'm gonna go try to catch up on my winks."  
And with that, he left as well.

Peter and Micky were alone in the living room.

Micky's pulse quickened. He looked over at Peter.

Peter looked a little uncomfortable. "You want to watch something?" Peter asked.

Micky shook his head. "No."

Peter looked down at his hands. He took a deep breath. "Maybe we should uh… maybe we should go to bed." His eyes darted sideways at Micky.

Micky's heart stilled for a moment as he looked at Peter, trying to tell if he meant that literally or...

Peter suddenly palmed his face. "Oh god. That didn't sound right. Considering everything…" He shook his head.

Micky's heart started beating normally again although it now felt a little heavy.

"I meant to say, 'maybe we should go to sleep'."

Micky eyed him, wondering if he had intentionally misspoken and was just trying to gauge things. "Yeah, sure." Micky said, although he'd kind of hoped to do something closer to going to bed than to going to sleep.

Peter smiled sheepishly and got up to get around.

.

Peter was the last one in. As he settled into his bed, he reached over and turned off the light.

He was just dozing off when Micky said "You know you have a really big dick."  
Peter's eyes snapped opened. _"What?!"_

Micky laughed. "Well I mean I've seen it before you know."

"Yeah?" Peter wasn't sure what Micky was getting at.

"Well now I've felt it too….you know and….it's big. I guess I just didn't think about it before."

Peter tried not to laugh but he couldn't help it. "Thanks…I guess?"

Micky laughed too. "What did mine feel like?"

"Oh my god, Micky, go to sleep." He threw his pillow at him and laughed.

"What so you're not going to tell me?"

"No." Peter said, amused.

"Why not?"

"Because…Can I have my pillow back?"

"No."

Peter laid there in the darkness looking in Micky's direction. He smiled. "Please?"

"Nope."

He lay there a few more minutes. Finally he said. "It felt…strange…nice I guess."  
A few seconds later his pillow hit him in the face. "Thanks." He laughed.

"Night Pete."

"Goodnight Mick."


	6. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 6

The next couple days were in limbo.

Despite Peter's growing infatuation with Micky, and despite the fact that Micky was on his mind every waking hour and in his dreams every sleeping hour, and despite the fact that he had been neglecting Ty, not because he wanted to avoid her but simply because he was too hung up on Micky to remember to return her calls…

Despite all that, he stuck by his vow to take things slow.

He kept his distance. He cut out all physical contact, afraid of what it could lead to.  
He made sure not to say anything that could be misinterpreted as sexual.  
Everything was very platonic.

He knew he was overcompensating but he couldn't help it.  
With all the thoughts and desires going through his mind on a minute to minute basis, there was no telling what would happen if he let his guard down even a little.

He knew that Micky was probably confused by his behavior. Especially when he caught Peter gazing at him with an intense fire in his eyes. But he didn't say anything.  
And neither did Peter.

But it wasn't like they didn't talk. They did:

'_I just heard the new Beatles album.'  
_'_That's cool.'_

'_Have you seen my comb? It was my favorite comb and I can't find it.'  
_'_No, sorry man.' _

'_You pick up any eggs while you were out?'  
_'_Yeah.'_

…So maybe they weren't real conversations. It was just a way to feel normal while they took things slow, or rather, while they took things nowhere.  
And they both knew it.  
It was clear when they lay in their beds at night facing each other.  
Looking into each other's eyes.

Looking but not talking.  
Looking but not touching.  
Looking but not acting on the fantasies that continued to build in their minds.

* * *

It was Thursday evening. It had been a grueling practice. They'd been going since 9am. With only 10 days until they hit the road, Mike had amped up their practices. Despite Davy's improvement on drums, Mike had come down hard on him. Davy was exhausted and getting very irritable.  
Peter didn't blame him.

As soon as Mike had called an end to today's practice. Davy announced that he was 'off to see Olivia, would be takin' the car, screw you guys and wouldn't be back until mornin'.'

"Davy, man," Mike, who was accustomed to car privileges, said. "What are we supposed to do if we want to go out?"

"Don't know, ask Peter. He gets around fine without wheels….or you could take the RV." He laughed. "Well, see ya guys."

"Hey, now wait a minute!" Mike yelled after him. "Don't stay out too late. We're starting early again tomorrow."

Davy gave a little wave of acknowledgment and left.

Mike stood by the hall looking irritated. "What a little douche…. just taking the car like that."

"Ah, come on Mike, Davy never takes the car out." Peter said. "Where you wanna go anyway?"

"Well I _had_ wanted to go down to the _Troubadour_ with Chip, although I haven't really talked to him since that party. I hope he's not pissed about me kissing on Gina."

"Mike you were doing a little more than kissing."

"Yeah…" Mike looked guilty. "You know, I'm not even sure how that started. It's really weird. She's cute but I don't really dig her like that."

"Well, he was pretty out there. He probably doesn't even remember."

"I hope you're right."

"Well maybe we can go down to _Van Go-Go's_. I know it's not as big of a music scene but it might be fun."

Mike looked thoughtful. "Hmm, yeah you know I haven't been in a while. And it would probably be a good idea to talk to Fred and line up some gigs for when we get back."

.

Half an hour later they were walking down Beechwood on their way to the little club.

Micky had decided to join them.  
But he wasn't going to drink… not tonight. He still had himself on probation.

"So…uh, Mick," Mike said "I know you gave Davy that whole spiel about not wanting to date but I bet the Taylor girls are there. I know you always had a little thing for Eileen. Now that you're a free man...?"

Micky looked up. Mike was giving him a knowing grin.  
_Eileen … damn. _He had almost forgotten about her. She was a cute little blond with a fantastic rack who never missed a gig when they played at _Van Go-Go's.  
_She certainly seemed to like _him_. She always made a fuss when he came down off the platform. She'd constantly hang around him and 'ooh' and 'ahh' over his voice. 'If only I had guy like you to sing me to sleep every night.' Then she'd wink…..a clear invitation. But..that was when he was Lin's loyal puppy.

But he wasn't her puppy anymore was he?

And besides, puppies grew into dogs, didn't they?  
_Boy did he feel like a dog._

The only problem was that, while he was horny as a motherfucker, he needed to figure things out with Pete before throwing himself into some random one night stand.

"You really think she'll be there?" He asked Mike.

Mike laughed. "I don't know. I think so. She usually is."

Micky looked at Peter.

Peter smiled but the smile didn't quite meet his eyes.

Micky looked down at the ground as he walked.  
No, it was a bad idea. And he couldn't do that to Pete.

_Why not?... It's not like you're in a relationship. What are you waiting for? It's not like anything is even happening between you guys._

We're going slow.

_You're not going at all._

He's just being careful.

_Yeah well there's careful and then there's 'careful.' And besides why does it matter anyway? _

Because I want to find out where this thing goes with him.

_So? That doesn't mean you can't get a little ass on the side._

But that would be cheap wouldn't it?

_Maybe. But you've been wanting to fuck her for over a year, now._

Well, Pete wouldn't do that to me.

_What are you talking about? He already did do that to you, remember?_

Oh…_that was right_. The party. Denise's party. He'd slept with the girl Davy wanted to hook Micky up with.  
Actually, that _was_ a little fucked up now that he thought about it.

_See? Just get fucked… Just get good and fucked. You need it. You deserve it. It doesn't matter._

.

When they got to _Vincent Van Go-Go's_ it was a much more happenin' scene then the last time Peter was there. All the regulars were hanging out..including Eileen and her sister Shannon. When Eileen saw them walk in she ran up to them.

"Oh my god, you guys! I haven't seen you in forever! Are you guys still in a band?!"

"Yeah." Mike said. "We're just touring more now. Haven't gotten back into the local gig thing this time around."

"Oh, thank god! I would be _so _sad if you guys broke up."

"Speaking of broke up…" Mike said slyly and pointed his thumb at Micky.

"Really?!" She seemed ecstatic. But then she caught herself. "Really?" She put on a sympathetic face. "Poor thing."

Mike winked before walking over to the bar and settling in a seat.

Micky glared after him.

Eileen looked at Micky. "I'm _so_ sorry you and Lin broke up. I'm sure you'll meet the right girl soon" She batted her eyes.

He didn't say anything. Instead he looked at Peter, who still didn't look thrilled but nodded and smiled. "Get your kicks, man."

He turned back to Eileen. "Wanna dance?"

She grinned and led him to the dance floor.

.

Peter joined Mike at the bar.

"Hey Peter." Cindy said coming up to take his order.

Peter smiled. "How's my girl?"

Cindy blushed "You know I'd be much better if you boys started coming around more again. I know you're busy but we sure miss your faces."

Mike smirked. "Is that all you miss?"

Cindy blushed again.

Peter rolled his eyes. Mike and Cindy had had a fling or 12 over the years. It tended to go south. Romantically they were both too bullheaded but they got along great as friends...which was probably why they kept thinking a relationship would work.

Mike and Cindy chatted for a while.

Peter tuned them out until he heard Mike mentioning some gigs when they got back in a few weeks.

"Well," Cindy said. "I know the _Mermen_ are going to be playing Friday nights and every other Saturday but I'm sure we can work something out. I'll talk to Fred about it." She smiled. "You know I'd much rather see your handsome face up there."

Mike grinned and touched her hand. "I bet you would."

Peter rolled his eyes again.

"You know I get off in 15 minutes." Cindy said.

"Oh yeah?" Mike glanced at Peter. "Do you care?"

For the second time in less than an hour Peter found himself saying "No it's cool. Go get your kicks, man."

Mike smiled and went to the men's room to 'freshen up'.

Peter turned in his stool to look out on the dance floor. It was packed tonight. He spotted Micky and Eileen dancing in the corner. She was all over him. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

He felt a wave of sadness.  
He knew that Micky had had the hots for her. And now he was finally getting his shot.  
But what had this past week even been about if Micky was just going to go off and start something up with Eileen...who by the way might be cute as a button but also had the personality and intelligence of one.

Peter sighed and turned back around. He ordered another drink from Cindy. "So you and Mike?"

"Yeah I know what you're thinking." She said.

"Nah..maybe one of these times it will work out." He teased.

She laughed.

Just then Mike came out of the bathroom.

"Gee Mike you sure take a while to freshen up." Peter said.

Mike sat down looking embarrassed. He leaned in so Cindy couldn't hear. "It's my hair. The little flip thing in the front isn't cooperating."

"Ah come on Mike," Peter said loudly. "I think you look beautiful." He turned to Cindy. "Doesn't Mike look beautiful? His hair is _so _gorgeous."

Cindy played along. "Oh yeah it real nice….._gorgeous_."

Peter grinned at Mike, who was giving a death stare.

"Well I'm gonna clock out." Cindy said. "I'm parked around back. I'll meet you there."

Mike stood and finished the remainder of his drink. He sat it down in front of Peter and leaned in. "I'm gonna get you for that." He said.

Peter laughed and punched Mike's shoulder. "Have fun." He said as Mike smiled and left.

And then he was alone at the bar.

He turned back again to spot Micky.  
He was in the same place.  
But he wasn't dancing anymore.  
Eileen had him against the wall. She was whispering in his ear.

Peter watched as Micky's hands ran up her back and then back down to her hips. Suddenly Micky looked up at Peter.  
Peter looked away quickly. He didn't want Micky to think he was spying.  
He turned back to the bar.

A few minutes later he felt a soft touch on his shoulder.

"Hey Pete."

Peter looked up at Micky. Eileen was nowhere to be seen.

Micky sat down next to him. He looked around in a paranoid manner. "So uh, I think I might go home with Eileen."

Peter's heart fell.

Micky leaned closer and gave him an intense look. "If you don't want me to... I don't ha-

"-Come on Mick. You don't owe me anything. I'm not going to tell you what to do." Peter cut him off.

"I'm just saying..." Micky eyes were pleading.

_What was this?_ Did Micky _want_ to stay? Was he asking Peter to ask him to stay?  
Peter opened his mouth to do just that when Eileen came up behind them.

"You ready?" She asked.

Micky was still searching Peter's eyes.

Peter closed his mouth.

"Yeah." Micky said as he broke eye contact.

"Great!" She sounded too eager.

Micky stood up, and as they walked past Peter, he ran his hand along Peter's shoulder blades.

And then they were gone and once again...Peter was all alone at the bar.  
He chugged the rest of his beer and looked around. Even though he knew many of the people here, he wasn't really in a social mood anymore.

He called Cindy's replacement, Norman, over to settle his and Mike's tab.

Then he left.

.

It was a long lonely walk.

He'd thought tonight would go differently. He didn't think his buddies would abandon him for chicks...but then again, he'd told them to get their _kicks_.  
Now he was _kicking_ himself.

And besides, why _wouldn't_ they leave him for a chick?  
That was what guys did.  
That was what guys did; they chose the pussy.  
They didn't get all mellowed out and depressed and pine over each other...  
No. That wasn't what guys did.

He kicked a rock in his path.

He blamed himself, really.  
He shouldn't have gotten so hung up.  
It was a little unsettling to realize just_ how_ hung up he'd gotten. The past couple days he'd felt a pull in his heart. It was a feeling that resembled something he hadn't felt since he and Ty had first starting dating.

Attraction, yes. Infatuation, yes. But there was also a little more.  
He had a feeling he knew what it was but it was pointless to think about now.  
Now that nothing would ever come of it.

Maybe it was for the best though.  
Maybe he'd had been a fool.  
It was good that it ended before it even really began.

Finally he got home. He showered and got around for bed. It was only 10:30 but fuck it. He felt lethargic.  
He lay down.

He thought about Micky. Micky and his lips.  
He wished he could taste them again.  
Finally he dozed off.

* * *

Micky was in Eileen's car. She had driven them out on Sweetwater. He'd thought they were going to go back to her place but then she'd informed him that she still lived with her parents and they didn't let boys in the house.

"Oh… ok." He'd said.

"It doesn't matter though." She'd giggled. "I know a place we can go."

He felt like he was in high school again as they made out in her car.

He'd wanted this. He had.  
When she had been dancing so close to him, rubbing herself against him, _oh so slightly,_ he'd wanted to take her in the bathroom and do her right there….. but then as she began talking about getting out of there and going somewhere private, he'd started to feel a little uneasy.

He'd looked up and seen Peter watching him and he knew why he felt uneasy:  
He didn't want to go.

He'd wanted to ask Eileen to kindly get lost so that he could go pull a stool up next to Pete and spend the evening with him talking... or not.  
And then they would walk home together and...well, when they got home?  
A few of his fantasies from the last couple days rose to his mind.

But then Eileen had rubbed against him again and his penis had spoken for him. "Let's go." He'd said before he could stop himself.

.

And now here he was on a hill off Sweetwater about to fuck this cute little blond he'd had his eye on for a while and all he could think about was Pete.  
Pete and the sad look Micky saw on his face as they were leaving.

Suddenly he just wanted to go home.

Eileen had moved her head down to his stomach and was now working on his pants.  
He knew what was coming...and no doubt about it... it _would_ feel good.  
But he couldn't let it happen.

"Eileen…." He touched her shoulder. "Eileen, wait."

She looked up confused.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this."

She sat up. "What? Are you serious?"

He nodded.

She looked like she was about to cry. "But I thought you liked me."

"Yeah I ...I do." He sighed. _Why was he doing this?_ Why didn't he just let her suck his cock? It would feel good and it would keep her from crying. "Look it's just..."

"-It's your ex isn't it?" She interrupted as she wiped at her eyes.

Lin was becoming a pretty good scapegoat in these situations.  
"Yeah it's her. I just..well we were together for so long...this just feels..."

"-No, I get it." Her expression changed. "But you _know_…" She smiled slyly, playing with his zipper. "I could make you forget all about her."

"I'm sure you could." Micky breathed as re-buttoned his pants.

She sighed. "You want me to take you home, then?"

"Yeah."

.

The drive home was quiet. Neither of them spoke.

When they pulled up to the pad, Micky turned to Eileen. "It was fun."

"I guess."

"Sorry." He said.

"It's fine."

He nodded and leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "Goodnight." He said as he got out of the car.

.

When he got to the bedroom he was surprised to find Peter already home and in bed asleep…he'd only been out on Sweetwater for about an hour.

He quietly sat down on the edge of Peter's bed.

The moonlight was coming through the window and casting a glow on Peter's features. If Micky didn't know better he would have thought it was Peter himself who was glowing.

_Peter, his light…_

He touched Peter's back softly.

Peter's eyes fluttered opened. "Mick?"

"Hey Pete."

"Hey I thought you were with Eileen."

"I was."

Peter sat up. "How'd it go?"

Micky sighed. "Alright, but I wanted to come home."

"Why?"

Micky looked down. "I don't know... I just... _did."_

They looked at each other for a few moments before Micky wrapped his arms around Peter and hugged him. He held him for a few seconds and then he gently pressed his lips to Peter's. "Good night Pete." He said as he stood and went to his own bed.

Peter stayed as he was.  
He touched his lips.  
"Goodnight Micky."


	7. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 7

Looking back, the next day was really the turning point in the relationship that developed between them. Although there were several turning points beforehand and several after, and although the events of that day were really not all that impressive in the scheme of things, in Peter and Micky's minds it was the beginning. The beginning of something much more then they'd planned. Much more than they expected. Something that would stick with them, haunt them almost, for the rest of their lives. For better or worse, looking back, that day would set them on a path that would change them forever.

* * *

It was Friday morning. Peter had gotten up early fully expecting Mike and Davy to be ready to start practice, but when he walked into the kitchen he only found Davy.

"So?" Davy said.

"So what?"

"So where the hell is Mike? I thought he wanted to start early again."

"He didn't come home?"

"I guess not. Where'd he go?"

"We went to _Van Go-Go's_ last night. He left with Cindy."

"Are you kiddin' me?"

Peter laughed. "I guess things must have gone well."

"Yeah great. You know I came home early last night like he told me to."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, I didn't get laid."

"Cry me a river Davy. I didn't get laid either."

Davy glared at him for a second before saying "Well, fuck it. We're up. You wanna start?"

.

So they practiced for a few hours, paying close to attention to the songs with drum breakdowns. Going over them again and again until finally, around noon, Mike got home.  
He was very happy and what could only be described as bouncy.

"Hiya kids!" Mike said jubilantly.

Davy's pissiness returned. "Good night apparently?"

"Very good night." Mike nodded.

"You know who didn't have a good night?" Davy said.

Mike looked at him with an amused expression.

"Me, that's who."

"Oh, yeah? That's a shame."

"Well, I coulda, you know, if I'd know practice was gonna be optional today."

"What are you talking about? Practice isn't optional."

"For you it seems to be."

"Yeah, but not for you."

Davy gave him a nasty stare.

"Whatever." Mike said. "I'm not sorry. Not sorry at all….So what'd I miss?"

"We've just been running through everything." Peter answered. "Davy's sounding _a lot_ better."

"Ah, see there you go." Mike said looking at Davy. "That's why practice isn't optional for you. And look how it pays off. I'm so proud of you boys." He picked up his guitar.

.

They played for a couple more hours. They really got in the groove. They almost sounded as good as they did when Micky was playing with them. _Almost.  
_Then after a botched try at _Steppin Stone,_ Mike swung the guitar strap up over his neck and put his guitar on its stand. "Ok I think that's good for today."

"You do?" Peter asked.

"Sure, why not?"

"Well… uh, Davy still doesn't have the breakdown for _Steppin' Stone_."

"He'll get it" Mike said "You just have to have a little faith."

Peter furrowed his brows. _Faith? Optimism?_ This was not like Mike.

"...but I mean if you guys want to keep going, be my guest." Mike added.

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" Mike pointed at himself. "I got plans."

"What plans?" Davy asked accusingly.

Mike grinned. "I got a date."

"With Cindy?" Peter asked.

Mike just grinned again.

"Man you know that it's not going to work out, don't you? I mean it never does."

"Yeah I know. It probably won't. Still fun though."

* * *

Micky had woken up around one. He had laid in bed listening to the music coming from the living room.

They were really coming together.  
It kinda made him sad.  
He wished he was out there with them.

_So why aren't you?_

I'm not really sure anymore.

_Why don't you go out there then?_

He'd pondered for a few moments.

No, I can't. I still don't really trust myself. And besides, Davy's put so much time and effort into this now, I'd be a real dick to tell him it was all for nothing.

He'd ignored the voice than told him that was a load of bull and instead he got up, smoked a bowl and pulled out the drawings of his dream.  
After studying them for several seconds, he'd decided what they really needed was some color.  
He'd grabbed his colored pencils and gotten to work.

And that's what he'd been doing for the last couple hours.

.

He was lost in concentration when there was a knock on the door. His head shot up. He realized he didn't hear music coming from the living room anymore.  
He quickly stacked his drawings up and hid them in one of the drawers.

"Yeah?"

Mike came in. "So, you have fun last night?" He had a shit eating grin.

"Oh..yeah it was alright."

"Was she good?"

"Good?"

"Yeah, you know, _good_?"

"Oh...um I didn't sleep with her."

"You didn't?"

Micky shook his head.

"Why not? It looked like you guys were practically doing it on the dance floor."

Micky cheeks grew red. "Yeah...well...look Mike, it's like I told Davy, I'm not ready to date anyone."

"It wasn't a date. It was a fuck."

"Yeah I know but I just wasn't into it."

"Wow that's a first."

"What are you talking about? ...I'm not like a whore or something."

"Sure, ok."

"_I'm not!_ I never fuck around."

"Well maybe that's because you haven't needed to for a while but I remember back in the day… when we used to share a room. You were bringing a new girl home every night... And now you're _single_ again..."

"So?"

"So... "

"Ok then, why did I stop her right as she was about to go down on me?"

"_You did_? Wow man, you need help."

Micky laughed. "So how'd it go with Cindy?"

"Well, let's just say _I_ didn't stop her from doing _anything_."

Micky laughed again.

"In fact," Mike continued. "I'm heading over to her place right now where I intend to _not _stop her again."

"Cool man, well have a blast while it lasts."

Mike nodded a knowing nod and left.

.

Micky pulled his drawings back out.  
He laid them out on his desk and looked over them with satisfaction.  
It was amazing what color did. They seemed so much more alive now.  
He'd have to show them to Peter again.

_Ahh…Pete Pete Pete._

He sighed.  
He was just about done with this whole taking it slow shit.

Not that he didn't_ want_ to take it slow. That was the right thing to do.  
...but his definition of slow was basically,_ not fucking_.

…_Well, actually that wasn't really true._ His definition was the same as Peter's… moving at a snail's pace…  
Or it used to be… but right now he wanted to take it slow by pulling Peter into some obscure cubby hole and having his way with him.  
…_above the belt of course_, he added for good measure.

He sat back in his chair.  
…So, Mike was leaving which meant they must be done practicing.  
He started to feel giddy as he thought about which cubby hole to use.

But then he heard Peter's base start back up followed by Davy on the high hat.  
_Well shit._

Of course, he had brought this on himself by quitting the band.  
They needed all the practice they could get.  
Still, he felt impatient.

_Well,_ _so what if they were still practicing?_ It didn't mean he couldn't go _mess _with Peter a little bit.

_Mess with? Was he talking about flirting?_

Yep, he was going to go flirt with Pete.

Man, it was so wild. Just a week ago he couldn't stand the idea of Peter even being in the same room. And now he was going to go and flirt it up in an attempt to get Peter alone so they could make out?

_Not_ that he was having second thoughts…_no way_.  
He was enjoying himself.  
He was enjoying this new freedom… allowing himself to think things… to feel things.  
He was just surprised at how fast his feelings had changed.

Maybe it had to do with the extra semen in his balls.  
Maybe that was where these sexual desires were coming from.

_Well of course they were.  
_You didn't have sexual desires without a libido.  
It was just funny that his libido had honed in on Peter.

But that was futile.  
It wasn't like Peter was going to get him off.  
And it wasn't like he was going to let him either  
...despite some of the daydreams he was having.

So why get so worked up?  
Why put himself through that? It was torture.  
"Mmm torture." He licked his lips.

_Torture? Jesus, Micky_. Torture isn't sexy.  
He laughed at himself.

_...So flirting then?  
_How the hell did he go about flirting with a guy?  
He opened the bedroom door and peeked behind the corner.  
It couldn't be the same as flirting with a girl..could it?  
Not that he had any good techniques.  
Girls usually flirted with him, not the other way around.

_Ok, so then what did those girls do to get his attention?  
_Well…it wasn't so much what they did that got his attention. It was usually their boobs.  
Maybe he could stick out his chest and pretend he had a rack and parade around in front of Peter.  
He started laughing. He'd be sure to get attention alright….

_But really_, other than _physical_ appearance, what did a girl do to let him know she was into him?

Well, there was eyelash batting, and giggling…neither of which he cared much for.  
There was hair twirling, which he actually thought, if done right, was kind of cute.  
There was obvious stuff like when they ran their hands over his body…or their body.  
Or whispering in his ear. Or talking in that deep, sexy, overly turned on voice.  
But that was too bold.  
He needed something subtle. Davy was out there too.

_The Eye_.

Of couse… _the eye.  
__The Eye _was perfect. It came natural to him.  
Most of the time when he did it, he wasn't even aware…although Lin had brought it to his attention as a joke when she caught him giving _the eye_ to the waitress at _Jasmine's,_ or her coworker, Cassandra, or Millie's niece, Janelle, or the hot little Scottish girl that wanted them to play volley ball on the beach, or…  
-well, actually the list went on.

The point was he had never had to try…so if he _tried_, Peter was bound to notice.

…_.Well of course Peter was going to notice._ That was a given…  
What Micky wanted to do was catch him off guard, make him sweat a little, make it hard for him to concentrate…so hopefully _he _could get a little attention.

Selfish, yes. They needed to practice..  
But dammit. He needed things too.

Alright then. He let out a long breath and stepped out of the bedroom.  
_It's show time._

.

He walked out into the living room and into the kitchen, keeping an eye on Peter to see if he'd notice him.  
He did.  
Peter's eye followed him all the way the icebox.  
Micky rummaged around for a long time purposely taking his time. Finally he grabbed a root beer that was right in front of him and turned back around.  
Peter was still watching him.

Micky gave him his deviant little smile….although he didn't know that was what Peter called it, and popped the top off of his root beer.  
He held Peter's gaze and took a drink. When he brought the bottle back down he licked his lips and smiled again.

His actions definitely seemed to be having the desired effect. Peter's expression had gone from mild interest to an intense stare.

Suddenly Davy stopped drumming. "What the fuck Peter? I actually had it that time."

Peter was shaken from his trance. "Fuck Davy…I'm sorry I just…." He glanced at Micky, shooting him a bewildered look. "Sorry, man I just got…distracted." He finished quietly.

"Whatever, I just want to get through these last two songs so we can be done and I can go back over to Olivia's and hopefully claim what should have been mine last night. So let's just hurry the fuck up."

"Yeah..of course." He glanced sideways at Micky again.

Davy counted off and they started again.

Micky walked out of the kitchen and leaned against the wall in front of Peter.  
He looked at Davy for a second to see where his attentions were. He was completely focused on the drums.

Alright, time to lay it on thick. He grinned to himself.

Peter seemed to be making it a point not to look at him. But then he saw his eyes shift ever so slightly towards him.

Micky stretched out against the wall… _now if only Peter would make eye contact again_.  
He did.

Micky gave him his best _the eye_ that he could. A look that tried to convey everything.  
He tried to break it down in his head to make sure that he was doing everything right.  
It was an intense, soulful gaze, not a look but a _gaze_. His eyes needed to be a little droopy, a little sleepy but still focused.  
As he was making _the eye_, he realized that it wasn't just about the eyes… there were other things involved…like the cock of his head, his stance, the body language.  
Then there was also the way he set his mouth. It needed to hang open a bit... but not like a jaw drop or anything. His lips needed to part _slightly_…maybe just enough so that he could touch his upper lip with his tongue if he so desired.  
Suddenly he so desired.  
As he did he realized that _the eye_ might not be as subtle as he thought. Not the way he was doing it anyway.

He watched as Peter stopped playing and dropped his arms to his sides.  
He closed his eyes and grinned, suddenly embarrassed by his display.

As his eyes were closed, he heard Davy stop playing as well. "Goddammit Peter, what the fuck are you doin'?"

Micky opened his eyes.

Peter was still looking at him.

Micky sidestepped into the kitchen to, hopefully, divert Peter's attention before Davy found them out.

It seemed to work. Peter blinked and again came out of his trance. "Uh…look Davy, I can't do this right now…I think I'm tired or something…maybe I'm too stoned."

Davy shook his head in irritation.

"Look, can't we just be done for the day?"

"Uh, yeah, course we can."

Peter looked relieved.

"I don't get it though. We only have a little over a week and you and Mike both wanna bail? You guys are usually like the hounds of hell. Especially when you both know I still got a ways to go? It's pretty weird."

"Shit, Davy, I mean if you need to keep going…" Peter looked at Micky.

Micky was no longer attempting to distract him.

"Hell no, I wanna get outta here." Davy said. "I just think it's weird is all."

Peter nodded "Yeah..you're right. It _is_ weird…Tomorrow though..tomorrow, we'll get this all worked out."

Davy shrugged and stepped off the riser.  
He walked into the kitchen and grabbed the phone.  
He looked at Micky and shook his head. "Man, I don't know how you dealt with this shit…no wonder you quit." Then he began dialing.

Micky walked back out into the living room. He looked briefly at Peter and went to the French doors that led out to the patio.  
He stopped and turned around; making sure Peter saw where he was going.

He did.

Micky turned the knob and went out, leaving the door open.  
He made his way down the stairs.

When he got under the porch he looked around.  
As good a cubby hole as any.  
He was hidden from any beach goers by the stairs and he was hidden from the neighbors by the long balcony…. and of course he was hidden from anyone on the porch above him…  
A good cubby hole indeed. He stepped back against the wall and waited.

He blew out a breath and looked out at the ocean.  
He watched the tide.  
Funny…the tide here seemed so different than the one by the rock…the one from his dream.  
It seemed so harmless. So unaware.  
It was just doing it daily duty…. sending waves in and out like it was supposed to.  
It wasn't ominous. It wasn't out to destroy him.  
But really, it wasn't different at all. It was the same tide.  
He was the one that was different. He was changing. Conquering his fears.  
He still had a lot of hang ups, sure …but he wasn't too worried about them. He'd deal with them as needed.

In the meantime he was just happy that he was about to feel Peter's lips … and Peter's tongue… and his hands…and-  
-and where the hell _was_ Pete?  
Hadn't he made it clear where he was going?  
Hadn't he been forward enough?

Just as he was wondering this he heard the door close above him.  
Then there were light footsteps. Footsteps that began to make their way down the stairs.  
He saw Peter's moccasins come into view.  
He began feeling embarrassed again. He backed further against the wall.

Finally Peter's face appeared and Micky saw him look around. Out towards the sea, under the deck  
and then at him.

Peter stepped the rest of the way down the stairs and stood in front of him.

Micky froze. All this wanting was finally getting and now he _was_ afraid.

Peter was frozen as well…for a second.  
Then in two sudden steps Peter had his hands buried in Micky's hair and his tongue in Micky's mouth.

Micky shrunk against the wall and wrapped his arms around Peter neck.

"What are you trying to do to me?" Peter whispered in Micky's ear as he came up for a quick breath.

Micky didn't have time to answer as Peter's lips covered his again.  
He gripped Peter's lower back and pulled him closer.

Peter's breath was hot on his. His tongue was dive bombing Micky's mouth.  
Micky could actually feel the bombs go off in his brain.  
He gripped Peter tighter.

Then Peter's mouth was on his throat.

Micky felt his already rising cock begin to throb.  
He moved his hands up to Peter's face as Peter took his lips again.

Then his hands were pinned to the wall above his head…_again_,  
and Peter was pressing that which made him man, against him.

"_Oh fuck…" _Micky panted as Peter's mouth released his lips for a moment.

They continued in that fashion for a few more minutes, although with the rising tension and desire it felt like much longer.

.

Then the door above them opened and they both froze.  
Eyes wide, Lips interlocked…just like a few days ago.

_Fuck these fucking interruptions!_

As the steps made their way towards the stairs they pulled apart.

Peter quickly stooped and picked up a polo stick. "No Mick, I don't want to play polo." He said loudly as Davy made his way down the stairs.

When Davy got to the bottom, Micky's mind jumped into gear. "Oh, yeah… you know I don't want to play either, actually." He said as he sat down in the sand with his knees to his chin to hide the large bulge in his pants.

"Hey guys" Davy said completely unaware of what he had almost walked into.

"Oh hey Davy." Peter said a little too enthusiastically. He held the polo stick so that it was hiding his equally large bulge.

"So Olivia's car has a flat."

"Oh no!" Peter said -again with too much enthusiasm.

Davy looked at him strangely "Uh, yeah."

Peter paced away from Davy as if in despair.

"It's okay Peter." Davy said consolingly, but still giving him a strange look.

Peter sat down in the sand next to Micky. The polo stick still strategically placed.

"Anyway," Davy continued. "Mike has the car and the bus doesn't go out by her house."

"Okay?" Micky thought he knew where Davy was going with this.

"Micky, can I borrow your bike?"

Micky thought it over.  
The thing was that everyone had ridden his motorcycle at one time or another…. and nothing bad had happened…yet.  
But it was his baby. He didn't like loaning it out, _but…..  
_He looked at Peter.  
But if it meant that Davy would suddenly be gone and he and Peter would suddenly be alone….well, that was a little different.  
"Um…" He still hesitated though. "She doesn't have a spare?"

"She does. She just doesn't know how to change it out."

Micky nodded. "Um…yeah, ok….Davy. Just, please be careful."

Davy nodded "Oh course…but where are your keys?"

"My keys?" _Oh that was right. He hadn't been able to find his keys._

"They're in the top drawer in my dresser" Peter cut in." Then he looked at Micky apologetically. "I didn't want you driving before…you know, 'cause you were drinking and stuff."

Micky nodded slowly, catching the guilt in Peter's eyes.  
He had half figured that Peter was the one who had them. It would have pissed the royal shit out of him a week ago to find out his suspicions were correct, but now, well… now he found it really sweet. It just went to show how much Peter cared about him.  
He pursed his lips together and smiled.  
"Go for it Davy. Have a wonderful evening."

Davy smiled big. "Thanks Mick! I will!"  
He ran back up the stairs.

Peter turned to face Micky. "Mick, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken your keys like that but I was afraid you-"

Before he could finish Micky lunged at him and had him sprawled out on his back in the sand.  
"You better not be sorry." He said as he crawled on top of him. "You better not be sorry for looking out for me."

"What? No, that's not what I meant. I meant that-"

But then Micky's lips covered his and he forgot what he was saying.

He wrapped his arms around Micky's back as Micky squirmed on top of him, digging his hands into Peter's shoulders.

"Pete…" Micky smiled wickedly as he ran his mouth down to Peter's neck. "You know Pete…" He whispered. "I like the way you taste."

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and let out a shaky laugh that could have easily been mistaken for a moan..

"Do you like the hickey I gave you?" Micky asked as he ran his tongue over it.

"Uh huh" Peter breathed with eyes still closed

"I like it too."

And then he bit.

It hurt.  
The skin there was still a little tender.

But it also felt good…  
…the skin there was still a little _tender_.

A small gasp escaped Peter's lips and he ran his hands down to the small of Micky's back.

Micky bit harder.  
Peter held him tighter.

Then Micky growled and jerked against him.  
He sat up, paying no mind to the weight he was placing on Peter's hips and stomach.

Peter finally opened his eyes.

Micky was eyeing him. He had a feral look about him.

Peter pulse quickened.  
_What was he doing?_

And then Micky was on top of him,  
unleashing.  
He was sucking and biting and groping at Peter's chest.  
At his neck and arms.  
Any piece of skin he could get his hands or mouth on.  
His kisses were wet and frenzied.  
They became aggressive to a point that Peter wondered if they would leave bruises.  
His hands found their way inside Peter's shirt.  
He began to roughly caress Peter's stomach and chest.  
It seemed he couldn't touch him fast enough or get enough friction to satisfy.  
Frustrated, he whined deep in his throat and began to grind against him.

Shocked by Micky's display, Peter could only lie there and take the abuse as the contact between their groins began to erode at his sense of duty not to let things go too far.  
He dropped his head back into the sand and Micky immediately went to work on his throat.  
He tried to steady his breathing as Micky's urgency started to become his own.

But it was hard.  
It was hard when Micky's hand slid down to his hip and began clawing at the fabric there.  
It was hard when Micky's mouth found his again and he began sucking on Peter's tongue.  
It was hard when he only withdrew long enough to pull Peter's shirt up over his head.  
And it was _really_ hard when Peter realized just how badly Micky needed to be fucked.

Still, there was a small voice in the back of Peter's mind urging him to put stop to this.  
But when Peter felt Micky's fingers slip into his waistband the voice abruptly grew silent.

His body froze up on him and his breathing stilled.  
Micky pushed his hand inside and rubbed his palm roughly against Peter hip bone.  
"_I fucking want you Pete."_

Peter's mind went black with desire.  
He made a savage sound and firmly gripped Micky's thighs.  
He pulled him down onto him and began thrusting against Micky's hardness.

Micky's hand pulled out of Peter's pants and he clutched at the flesh on Peter's side.

Peter thrust harder.

Micky ducked his head and closed his eyes tight, whimpering with every buck.

Peter reached up the back of Micky's shirt, letting his fingers dig into Micky's shoulder blades.

Micky's head fell forward on Peter's chest and he cried out against it.  
"_Oh fuck… Oh fuck, Pete…  
…__fuck me…"_

Peter eyes snapped opened.  
_What? What did he say?_

Peter craned his neck up to look into Micky's eyes.  
They looked desperate.

_No! _The voice of reason was back._ No, don't even think about it. You better stop this shit right now!_

But...

_No! No buts. If you fuck him now, you'll both regret it._

Peter shook his head, trying to reason with the logic he knew was true.

But then Micky choked out. _"Please Pete, …I want you so bad…"_

Peter thrust against him one more time and then roughly pushed Micky off of him.

Micky let out a startled yelp as he rolled onto his back.

Peter paid no attention. He reached into his pants and rubbed himself furiously until he came.  
The release was just that... a release. It felt good the way an orgasm should but nothing more.  
He lay there with his eyes closed, breathing hard.  
After several moments he realized where he was and what had just happened.  
He finally opened his eyes and looked at Micky.

Micky was sitting up. His eyes were fixated on the wet spot beside Peter's zipper.  
When he realized Peter was looking at him, he swallowed.

Peter propped his elbows under him and looked at Micky.

Micky eyes were darting every which way. Finally they settled on Peter's.

"_Jesus,_ Mick." Peter whispered.

Micky's eyes got wide and he collapsed onto his back, covering his eyes with the inside of his arm.

Peter watched as Micky's chest heaved up and down. "Mick?" Peter said softly.

"Yeah?" Micky sounded afraid.

"You okay?" Peter leaned towards him.

_"I don't know."_ Micky said with his arm still covering his eyes.

Peter gently touched his chest.

Micky's arm flew to his side. "Please don't touch me right now!"

Peter jerked his hand back as if stung. "What?"

Micky sat up again, bringing his knees to his chest. "Just don't. Please. I can't…"

Peter looked up at him "What?" He asked again, confused.

"Look , I haven't been fucked in almost a month. Do you know what that just did to me?"  
He dropped his head against his knees.

Peter continued looking up at Micky. "You need release man."

"No kidding" Micky said into his knees.

Peter sat up, uncertain of what he was about to do.  
He grabbed the sides of Micky's head and drew his face up to him. He kissed him hard and quickly pushed him back down onto his back.

"No Pete..I'm serious." Micky squeaked. "I can't…." He trailed off.

Peter had touched his bulge and was caressing it though his pants.

"No….." Micky breathed. "You can't do that….."

Peter continued  
He traced the contour with his thumb and palm and began stroking.

Micky drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. _"No…"  
_But then he dropped his head back and closed his eyes.

Peter added pressure.

Micky moaned and arched his hips.

Peter paused for a moment, fighting back a voice that said this was a bad idea.  
He already knew it was a bad idea.  
But he also knew it was a bad idea to leave Micky in the state he was in.  
If things continued as they were and Micky didn't find release soon, there was no telling what would happen the next time they found themselves on the bedroom floor or under the deck…  
or in the car  
or hall  
or the bathroom at _Van Go-go's  
_..maybe behind Micky's drum set… Peter's mind kept creating scenarios.

The point was, Peter didn't think he could handle Micky asking to be fucked again.  
He stroked a couple more times and then withdrew his hand.

Micky lifted his head up to look at him.

Peter could see the anxiousness in his eyes.

Peter leaned forward, placing one hand beneath Micky's head. He kissed him gently as his other hand found Micky's zipper.  
He heard that deep whine again.  
He slowly pulled the zipper down.  
The whine grew louder.  
He pulled away from Micky's lips and watched him.

A barrage of emotion criss-crossed Micky's face, interchangeably.  
Fear  
Want…  
Lust…  
Fear  
Trust…  
Need…  
He popped the top button on Micky's jeans.

Micky's breath grew labored as he closed his eyes and Peter saw the muscles in his jaw clench.  
He could feel Micky's lower stomach tremble against his arm.  
He parted the slit in Micky's boxers and slid his fingers in.

And there it was.  
That heat.

That heat that was driving Micky's desires.

It was strange. All it really was, was a cylinder of flesh and nerves that fit inside Peter's opened fist.

But the power it had.  
The power it had over Micky.  
The power, he realized, it had over himself.

As he wrapped his hand around it he felt it spasm.

And then Micky grabbed his wrist and jerked it away.  
As he clenched Peter's wrist in his hand, Peter saw his torn look.

"You don't want this?" Peter whispered.

Micky stared at him. He looked wary. "I do." Yet he didn't release Peter's wrist.

Peter watched him for a few moments. Then he twisted his wrist out of Micky's grip and keeping his eyes on Micky's, slid his hand back inside.

He pulled him out.  
Micky whined again.

Peter realized his hand was shaking. He swallowed. "Micky, I'm not sure how to do this… but…" He trailed off.  
He wrapped his fingers around the base and began slow_._

Micky made a strangled sound and immediately grabbed his wrist again. Peter paused. But Micky didn't jerk it away.  
Instead, he clutched his hand around Peter's and showed him the rhythm he liked.

Peter was a quick study.  
After a few seconds he had it.  
He knew he was doing it right.  
And he was pretty sure he wasn't half bad…  
if the volume and intensity of Micky's breathing was any indicator.

Peter watched Micky's eyes. They seemed to lose focus with every pump until finally they closed and he dropped his head back in the sand.

Micky's grip on Peter's hand tightened for a moment before he released it and his hand fell to his side.

Micky seemed absolutely helpless.  
Absolutely trusting.  
Absolutely vulnerable.

This was what Peter realized he'd been wanting. This was what he'd been wanting since that night in Austin.

For Micky to crumble under his touch.

He wanted to please him.  
He wanted to work him into a dependent frenzy the way countless girls before him had done.

He wanted to hear that unsteady breathing get a little vocal… like it was now.  
He wanted to watch as that delicate face, who's features seemed to show every emotion and feeling, screwed up into an expression of ecstasy… as it did now.

He'd wanted to watch him lick at his lips  
Bite at them

He wanted to watch him throw his head back  
And dig his fingers into the sand  
To squirm beneath him  
To buck against him  
To cry out his name…

He wanted to feel the tension build.  
He wanted to feel it build under his touch  
Feel it build in the muscles of Micky's stomach and thighs… as it was doing now.

But most of all what he wanted...  
Was to see Micky's eyes.  
See them turn to liquid.

It would happen soon.  
Micky was much too worked up to last long.

He could feel it.  
He could feel the throbbing against his hand  
Yeah…Micky was already close.

And as if on cue, Micky raised his head off the ground. _"Oh fuck…" _He said in that whiny voice.

Peter felt him tighten.  
He _saw_ him tighten.  
Micky's entire body seemed to shrink into itself.

And then _those eyes_.  
Those eyes that were looking directly at him.  
_Micky's_ eyes.

They glazed over as Micky whispered his name. "Pet_er"  
_And then he violently threw his head back and cried out.

Peter felt the spasm in his hand as the warm liquid spilled out.

He'd just made Micky come.  
He knew it.  
He understood the significance  
He knew it would forever change things.

But all he could think about,  
all he could see…  
Were those _eyes.  
_Just like that first night.  
Replaying over and over in his mind.

But this time they were accompanied by his whispered name.

It was too much  
It was too right.  
But it was too dangerous.

It made him feel things that were too dangerous.  
Feel things he didn't think he'd ever feel for a man.  
Feel things he wasn't ready to face yet...

* * *

Alright guys... so I have one more chapter left in this part. I hope to post in by next weekend... but I may not be able to.  
I'm heading out to California to meet one of the men of my dreams (Please don't tell my husband) ;)  
Micky Dolenz is going to be signing autographs and I'm just enough of a freak to plan my vacation around that...  
So, anyways, if I don't get to it this weekend I promise to post the last chapter to this part in 2 weeks.


	8. Alternate Title Part 2 Chapter 8

Micky lay there. He didn't know how long. He was swept into a world, a universe, of pleasure. He felt the release wash over his body, starting at his groin but continuing up his spine and into the deep muscles of stomach. He felt warm. He felt light. He felt the nerves in his legs and upper arms and lips tingle and then go numb. He let his head roll to the side as his brain seemed to detach from his body and float above him.

Finally, the ground beneath him became solid again and he opened his eyes. The sun was bright. Much brighter than he remembered. As his eyes adjusted he saw Peter.  
Peter looked very strange to him.

He was sitting at Micky's side. His arms seemed rigid as they crossed across his lap. He saw Peter swallow and attempt to look away. But then he seemed to fight off the instinct and turned back to look at Micky.

Micky sat up.  
He reached down and shoved himself back in his pants and zipped himself up, all the while looking at Peter.  
His mind struggled to make sense of the scenario they were in.  
He wanted to say something. Anything.  
Anything to make Peter look a little less strange. A little less rigid. To take away that terrified look in his eyes.  
But what could he say?  
_Thanks for helping me blow my wad?  
I liked the way your hand felt around my cock?  
Why didn't you just fuck me?_

Micky cringed when he remembered that he'd asked Peter to do just that.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Micky asked before he could stop himself.

Then Peter did look away. He also breathed in an audible gasp of air.

Micky dropped his head. "No Pete…fuck. -Fuck..that's not what I meant to say, okay?" He looked back up.

Peter was still looking at the ground as his thumb idly made nervous circles in the sand.

Micky watched his thumb for a while. Then he noticed that there was cum on it and sand grains were sticking to it.  
"Pete…"

Peter looked up.

Micky breathed out. "Pete, that… that felt…" He struggled with the words. "That felt really _fucking_ good."

Peter's eyes widened. Then he nodded and looked away again.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"You know you got cum on your hand?" Micky finally said.

Peter looking up sharply and then brought his hand up to study it. He touched the sandy cum with his other hand and spread a line along his fingers.  
"You wanna go swimming?" He said still looking at his hand.

"Huh?"

"Swimming?" Peter nodded towards the ocean.

Micky turned his head back to look behind him.  
"Swimming?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah… I guess." He said slowly.

Peter stood up and wiped his hand on his pants before extending it to Micky.

Micky took it and stood as well.

Peter bent to pick up his shirt and then headed up the stairs without another word.

Micky followed.

.

They changed quickly and headed down to the beach.  
They spread a few towels out next to each other and sat down.

It was a nice afternoon. The sun was still high. Its rays warming their skin. There was a light breeze to offset the warmth. The only sounds were those of the waves coming in, a few seagulls squawking and the laugher and cheers from a volleyball game down the beach.  
It was peaceful.

Or should have been.

But Peter was in his head. He was battling something.  
Micky could tell.  
It seemed there was suddenly a barrier between them again.  
But this time, Peter was the one who built it.  
He was withdrawn… almost cold.  
Micky didn't understand.  
He knew that under the circumstances, he should probably be feeling uneasy. After all, he'd been in a highly vulnerable position. He'd let Peter do something to him. Something that would have made his skin crawl only weeks ago. He should be feeling the same way Peter was.

But he wasn't.  
He felt peaceful, free… almost content.  
_Almost_ content…except that he could feel the distance in Peter.  
He needed o say something. But again, he wasn't really sure what to say.  
So he sat beside Peter in silence and watched the waves.

Finally Peter pulled a joint from behind his ear and lit it. He drew in. "Everything was so easy wasn't it?" He said as he blew out the smoke.

Even though he didn't give reference to his thoughts, Micky knew what he was referring to. "Yeah, it was."

Peter looked at him. His eyes seemed haunted.

Micky could only guess that he was the one who was haunting them.

He took another hit, keeping his eyes on the sea.  
"Why did this happen to us Mick?"

Micky stared. He didn't know how to answer that. Usually he was the one to ask that sort of simple yet loaded question.  
"I don't know Pete."

"Do you regret it?"

Micky nodded slowly. "Yeah… I never wanted this." He followed Peter's gaze out to the ocean. "But what can we do about it?"

Peter sighed. "I don't know."

.

And Peter didn't. He didn't know what to do about this.  
This feeling.  
This feeling that had been slowly eating its way into his brain… into his heart.  
It was such a dangerous feeling.  
It could threaten to undo every relationship he ever had.  
It would destroy Ty.  
It would alienate him from his friends, his band, his family… society.  
It could even destroy his and Micky's friendship.

It was one thing to have fantasies and daydreams.  
To act on them… that was fine too.  
And he could love Micky. He could be infatuated.

Those things didn't _really_ hurt anybody.

But this feeling was powerful. It was a driving force. He needed to stop it. To nip it in the bud before it had a chance to plant it roots.

"Maybe it's worth it though, Pete." Micky said, breaking Peter from his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" Peter looked at him.

"Well, I mean if this hadn't happened, I would never…" He trailed off.

"You never would what?"

Micky sighed. "Look, I'm a mess. It's no secret. I have issues. Insecurities. I flip out at the drop of hat. I don't know myself and that's my biggest problem..."

"What are you getting at Micky?" Peter asked.

"Well… I mean this thing with you is forcing me to take a look at myself. It's making me face myself.. and my issues and insecurities. It's making me see the shell I've become."

"Shell?"

"Come on Pete. Don't give me that shit. You really think I'm some happy-go-lucky guy who talks a mile a minute and is an attention whore?"

"Well… not lately."

"Not ever. That's all a persona, man. Just a distraction._ You_ know that. You know _me_. "

Peter sighed. "Yeah… I do. I know you, Mick. But what you are calling a shell is still a part of you. It's just a part that you hide the rest of yourself behind. But don't go thinking it's not you."

Micky grew quiet.

Peter handed him the joint.

Micky took it and breathed in a hit. As he exhaled he nodded. "You're right, man. See… that's why you're my light, isn't it? You help me see things. You save me." He took another hit. "That's why this is worth it. It not only makes me see me, but it also makes me see you."

Micky handed the joint back to Peter. He dropped his hands in his lap and looked down." It also makes me see how I really see you."

Peter was about to take a hit but he paused. "How's that Micky?"

"I don't think I should tell you."

Peter lowered the joint and looked at him. "You have to… I need to know."

Micky swallowed and glanced away. Peter saw his lip tremble. But when he looked back up there was determination in his eyes. "It's making me see how much I'm…" He faltered. "how much I'm in love with you." He finished in an almost inaudible whisper.

Peter stared.  
There it was.  
That feeling.  
That feeling put in to words.  
Two words. _In Love._

And that's what Peter was. _In love._

But not just _in love._ He was head over heels.

And that was what was scary.

He'd do anything for the man beside him.  
Anything.  
Nothing else mattered.  
_Nothing._  
Not Ty.  
Not Mike. Not Davy.  
Not his mother or his sister or brothers.  
Not the future  
Not his reputation

Yes. They were in love.  
Probably had been all along.

How could they let this happen?  
To be in love?  
To be in love affected your very essence. Your very being.  
It was giving someone your heart and trusting them with it.  
It was allowing another human being access to your soul.  
It was denying your very existence without them.  
It was cosmic.

"Micky we can't be in love." Peter said, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

"Please tell me something I don't know Pete." Micky said into his knees.

Fuck._ How _could they let this happen?  
He knew they'd been playing with fire but he never… _never_ in a million years thought they would _actually_ fall in love.

Falling in love was so rare.

Peter had been in love only once before. With Ty.  
That was a long time ago now.

Of course he still loved her but over the past few years the 'in love' part had slowly faded and they'd fallen into a comfortable love.

He blamed himself for that. He'd shut her out. He stopped letting her see him. There were things he didn't want her to see. Things he knew she wouldn't want to see.

He told himself he was protecting her. With everything that had happened in her past, she had many insecurities. Peter told himself it was better to shut her out than to add to those insecurities.

But really he was just selfish  
He was an asshole.  
He knew he was still hurting her.

But they had been deeply in love for a great while. It had been one of the most amazing feelings he'd ever felt.  
He'd announced his love to the world wanting everyone to know.  
He'd paraded her around on his arm.  
He'd referred to her as the love of his life.

He'd welcomed it then.  
But now?

But now it was different.  
He couldn't welcome it.

Even if he felt dizzy.  
Even if he felt the longing. The need. The awe.  
Even if he felt high  
Or complete.. like a void he hadn't even been aware of was suddenly filled…  
Or like his heart would explode if he didn't fall at Micky's knees and express his corny-as-fuck undying love.

But no! He couldn't welcome it.  
Because two men couldn't be in love.  
Not in today's society.

It would be more acceptable for them to just fuck than to be in love and have all the pleasures and rights that a normal American couple had.

They could never be in a real relationship.  
Of course they could always live a lie and hide it…  
Hide it the same way they'd been hiding everything else that was going on between them.  
But feelings like this demanded to be free.  
They would be found out. He was sure of it.  
And it would most likely destroy them.  
Alienate them.

No that it mattered to Peter… but Micky. Micky was so fragile. And it was Peter's self assigned responsibility to make sure Micky didn't get hurt.  
He couldn't risk Micky losing his friends  
He couldn't risk Micky's mother and sisters… who Micky was very close to.  
He couldn't risk Micky's relationship with Ty… which Peter knew all about and was aware of its depth.  
He couldn't risk Micky's reputation, not this early in life. Not when his still had to make his way.  
And what about legal matters? Free love or not it wasn't exactly legal to be in a same sex relationship.

No, it wouldn't work. It couldn't. Not without Micky getting hurt.  
But of course Micky would probably get hurt regardless.  
If Peter called an end to their shenanigans now… yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt both of them.  
But better now than down the road.  
Better now before this thing took hold of them more than it already had.  
They didn't really have any romantic history yet. Their emotions were involved and intertwined but they weren't yet knotted together in a bond that would take a lifetime to undo.  
Better to just break away, get the hurt out of the way so they'd be free to live freely. Free to live normally.

He was about to attempt to lay all his thoughts out but instead he heard himself say. "I'm in love with you too, Mick. Completely, _ridiculously_ in love."  
He dropped his chin to his chest feeling like a coward for letting his own feelings take precedence.

But it seemed Micky was already aware of the consequences. "We're going to get hurt you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"I think I'm okay with that."

Peter raised his head. Finally finding his courage he said. "I'm not, Mick. I don't want to be the one to fuck up your life."

Micky stared at him for a few moments. Then a gleam entered his eye. "Pete… you don't really have a choice here. My life has to get fucked up by somebody. It should at least be by someone I love. By someone I pick to do it."

Peter laughed a bewildered laugh. "Fuck Micky."

Micky grinned. But it seemed a little uncertain. "I know this is a bad idea Pete. But I want to do it anyway"

"Micky… do you know what you're asking for?"

"Yeah… I do. And I know it's going to fucking suck. I know. But there's something here. Something between us that I need. That I want. And I'm not going to give it up." He reached out and took the joint from Peter's hand. "I'm not giving you up." He said as before inhaling from it.

He laid back and pulled Peter down to him. Touching the sides Peter's face, he drew it to him and exhaled the smoke into Peter's mouth.

When he pulled back he said "I love you Pete."

He watched as Peter's eyes opened slightly and a smile slowly spread across his face. Peter breathed the recycled hit out of his lungs. He leaned in again and kissed Micky.

They stayed liked that for a while. Sprawled out on their beach towels, bodies intertwined like their feelings. With no mind to the world around them, they kissed slowly, softly.

Eventually the sounds of the waves and the seagulls and the volleyball game down the beach drew them back and they parted.

They looked at each other for a few seconds.

A small smile touched Micky's mouth.

Peter watched as it spread to his eyes. He laughed in resignation and rolled onto his back. "Oh Mick…" He sighed. "What are we going to do?"

"Micky propped himself up on his elbows. "I don't know, Pete. I guess we'll just have to figure out how to act like fags."

"What?!"

"Well," Micky was biting back a smile. "We're in love. We're officially fags now, right?"

"What the fuck, Man?" Peter said, bemused.

"Well, we are. A couple of faggot-ass gaylords." The end of his sentence was a little broken as he began laughing.

"Speak for yourself, you queer!" Peter said and began laughing as well.

Soon they were in full-fledged hysteria throwing around half-assed insults, teasing each other over who was a bigger fairy.

Finally their laughter died down and they lay beside each other under the sun, listening to the ocean and letting their thoughts take them into the uncertain future.

And although the word 'relationship' had never been mentioned, that day… the day that they would always look back on as the beginning…  
Tthat day there was an unspoken agreement that for better or worse they now belonged to each other.

* * *

AN- Ok... so end of Part 2. I know it was shorter than Part 1 and I didn't cover everything I said I would but that's because Part 2 was getting so long I had to split it. So, next up... Part 3. This will have more to do with how their other relationships are affected. It may be a little bit before I start posting as its still in the works.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
